Blame It On The Girls
by tattedheart
Summary: Edward wanted nothing more then to enjoy the success of his father, never wanted to have to know how he came about it. A stroke and a will later he is learnign the hard way how his father made it. Jasper had a chance at the bright light but never wanted it. He loves his bar, music and his mama that even after she past wont leave him alone.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**** Hello dear dear readers new and old! I am back with a series! This is something tht hit me halfway through Steel and I have talked about it before in the Steel an's and here it is. This story is pretty much something that came to me while listening to my music on my mp3. The boys screamed at me for a long long time and I kept notes and things morphed and here we have the strt. There will be many musical refs and some twist in characters that might not be everyones cup of tea but it is what they are telling me. So I hope you stick with for the ride. I am seeing a good 30-40 chapters (you all know I am long winded) so let do it! I want to say I love you Min! My beautiful pre-reader you have been an amazing support and I trust you will tell me when it is crap! And To the hubs Joe~~ your devotion to edit me after long hours of taking on the news of the town! 3!**

**Ed pov**

Fuck this crap! I am done with them all! Walking into a sleazy-ass bar down the street from my crap-ass Super 8 room, all I want to do is drown myself in booze and forget it all.

"Time to grow up, son. Time to take over and step up and fill your right full place." Fuck that! My mother has been pushing too fucking long and hard and this little jaunt into the heart of the company is a crock. I could be living it up in L.A. or settling into a dance groove in Seattle.

Po-fucking-dunk Texas, where the height of excitement is a pie bake-off, is crap!

The bar is exactly what I thought it would be from looking at the outside. The floor is pitted wood. The walls are lined with neon signs and drink special posters and the paint is faded and chipped. I pull up to the bar on the least-rickety stool I can find.

"What can I get ya, buddy?" Well, the accent fits. Glancing at the too-tight Levis and the heels of the boots confirms it - I'm in hell.

"Scotch, whatever you have is fine, as long as it is not Beam." Putting the glass of amber in front of me, he busies himself with random bartender crap.

I down the first drink quickly. It's Jameson not scotch, but I will deal with the decent whiskey. A second and third go down just as easy as the first. By the time I am on my fourth, I slow down and I guess the bartender decides I must be in a chatty mood.

"So . . . not from here obviously. I know everyone here." He dunks a few glasses through the water cycle that bars call clean.

"Not even close." Not in the mood for chit-chat, I let my eyes dart to the ESPN on the big screen.

"No accent, so not even from the state. Why the fuck would you be here?" I snort. That is the million-dollar question.

I bark out a laugh at him, "Not by any choice of my own, that is for sure."

"So what's the story?" Is he fucking serious? Is this a movie?

"Really gonna play bartender psychologist with me? Is that in the handbook or something?" Really? Do they live in movie cliches down here?

Now it's his turn to laugh. "No, man, it's just a matter of making small talk. It is after nine on a weeknight. Most of the town is in bed. Hell, if you hadn't come in, I probably would have closed up by now."

"Sorry to make you do your job. You could always kick me out. I am sure you have a hot little 'honey' or 'sweetheart' - no, you are more the 'sugar pie' type - to get home to." Ya, I am being a dick. I probably should just go, but honestly, I want to stay and be a dick and get some things off my chest.

"Actually I am more the 'Darlin' type." I could have sworn he winked at me as he turned to pull a bottle of beer out of the cooler. "So, gotta story or you want silence?" He smirks as he turns back to me.

I narrow my eyes at him and get a good look. He was quite a good-looking man, that's for sure. He had piercing green eyes and a straight nose, plump red lips and a firm square jaw, and dark hair that had streaks of blonde and reds from the southern sun that hits his chin. He was stunning really. Not even the series of fine-lined scars down the left side of his face could deter from his good looks. There are tattoos peeking out from under the rolled sleeves of his chambray shirt. Something about him has my attitude chilling out a bit. What the hell! It's customary to spill your shit to the bartender, right? I never thought one way or the other about what I prefer as far as sex goes. I can see the beauty in both the sexes. I have never had a complaint.

"Family sucks sometimes, that's about it. You live how you are brought up, then all of a sudden life stinks."

"Sorry, man. Wish I could empathize, but I ain't got none." Great, now I feel like shit. Not sure why, I could care less about a random sob story, but there was something in the tone of his voice.

Downing the last of my amber-colored therapy, I slide it forward and hand him a tip. "Thanks man, have a good one." He taps his knuckles on the bar.

Tapping the bar, he pockets the money. "Catch ya around, man." I looked back briefly and he was facing the mirror, but his eyes were on me. Our eyes met briefly, but he then shook his head and turned away so I couldn't see the what? Sad look? Disgusted? Shoving a hand in my pocket, I blow the joint with a who-gives-a-fuck attitude. Some of the pissy attitude is gone, but not all of it, especially after I stop to light a smoke and take a look around.

This is the shit that I escaped. This is the life that if my father hadn't been so successful, I would be still living in. And let me tell you, it is crap. The main - and I am sure only - drag has classic signs of small-town hick town. The asphalt street is pitted and covered in the gravel and tar meant to fix it. The stores all scream small-town, from the Piggly Wiggly at the end of the street to the five and dime next to the diner that probably hasn't seen an update to the decor since the

'50s. Taking a deep drag from my Camel Wide, I head down the street back towards my own personal hell of cheap carpets and itchy blankets. Six channels and the smell of hundreds of others that have been in the same room.

The walk takes no time at all. In fact, I bet my Rolex that no where in this town takes more than fifteen minutes on foot. Grabbing my card key out of my pocket, I let myself into my room and throw the window wide open. Everything said nonsmoking, but fuck it! Putting a little water in one of the cups from the ice bucket, I light up a Camel. If they don't like it, screw them! I will buy the fucking place. Tossing my coat on the bed and kicking off my shoes, I whip the comforter off the bed and toss it in the corner before flopping down and grabbing the remote. With a late night talk show droning on in the background, I fire up my laptop to go over the next day. The hell that will be my everyday until my dear old mother thinks I have learned my lesson or some shit like that.

My email is first and I bypass all of the emails that look like invites and updates. It will just put me in a crappier mood and remind me of what I am missing out on. I don't need the reminders of what I could be doing and what I have to do to get back to that life. I see the ones that are dealing with work. I try to wade through it all. I have been working in the company since I left college, but really, I just was there. I'm not a dumbass, but as far as I was concerned, there were others that knew the job. Why not let them do it? I had money to spend and fun to have. Yup, well, one stroke and I pretty much blew my fun out of the water. Now it is time to buckle down or there would be no more fun. After about 50 emails, the booze, the stress and the long day blur my eyes, so I shut the lid and strip down to my boxers. I hope to god that the sheets are clean as I slide in and lay back.

Tomorrow is going to be the official start to my stay in hell and I feel the headache on the way as I drift. But the last image I remember surprises me, it is of intense green eyes, a southern drawl and fine silver scars. It is a flash, but I recall it several times through the night. It haunts my dreams.

The glaring sun and layer of sweat covering me has me waking up in a bitch of a mood. I forgot how hot it is right away in the mornings down here. Back when I was a kid visiting, Nana would always remind me to close the curtains and turn on the fan. I, in my mood from yesterday, forgot both.

Scratching my sweaty balls, I shuffle over to the coffee pot and flip it on and stare out the window. My view is a half-empty lot full of steaming asphalt and dust. "Welcome to hell, Eddie Boy."

**Jas pov**

Climbing out of bed at the crack of dawn was never me - OK, rarely me. But after replaying everything in my head for the hundred-thousandth time, I give up on sleep. The guy was - well, hot as hell, if you go for the obviously handsome and rich type. But, WOW, what a complete ass. It was like he had "trust fund" stamped on his forehead and "party boy" stamped on his ass. Not to mention the crown on top of his head that screamed "I am a fucking sex GOD." From his perfectly messy hair to his Rolex and expensive suit, he had that rich party-boy air about him. Everything I loathe - that and the fact that he seemed to blame everyone for spoiling his life. I should have been happy when he walked out of my place, but something about him - something. The smart part of me yells "RUN." But the risk taking side says, "Go ahead and bite. You know you want to know more."

"Fuck it, he screams 'daddy issues.' " Tossing the covers back, I pad naked to the bathroom and take a long piss and splash water on my face. Checking the clock as I grab a Coke out of the fridge, I see the ungodly hour. I groan at the glaring green 6:45 on the microwave as I take a long pull from the cold can of sugary caffeine and it slides down my throat. This is gonna be a long-ass day.

After grumbling and groaning through my wake up routine, I grab my keys and head out to do the only thing I can ever think to do when I wake up this early.

"Oh mama, I wish you could have seen it. Rose was all hair-flipping and eye-batting and then the guy used the Q-word and 'boom', he was flat on his ass." I chuckle to myself and pick at a few strands of grass, rolling them between my fingers. I always show up once a week to leave some flowers or say a quick "hi," but when I was having a rough day or was up early with nothing to do until I had to open the bar, I would come and catch up - maybe just to sort out things in my head. Growing up it was just Mama and I and I could always and did always go to her when I needed to sort out life. She would be cooking or hanging the wash. Whatever her task, she would just listen. I would talk - ramble really - and she never asked me to get to the point because she always knew it would come out. And it did, eventually, and with a few "hmms," and "I sees," she let me talk until I got to the point and came up with the solution. Mamma rocked like that.

Today, I told myself I was just killing time - catching her up on life and my friends, but there was that nagging feeling that told me to keep talking. There was more. I spend the better part of an hour telling her about Rose and her antics, going over the gigs I have played and have coming up, bar news. I even let her in on some of the town gossip. She always did love to pretend that she hated the hens spewing venom in among the frozen foods and canned goods, but she was always relaying it to me as I helped her haul the bags in.

"So then, I guess Miss Mabel claimed she was only helping get a stain out of the carpet under Pastor Clearwater's desk." I could almost hear her laughter and see her as she wipes the tears from her eyes. Then I fall silent, I now know this is the time. This is the time in the conversation to switch. Funny - with her alive, I never felt the switch but I feel it now. I feel when the time comes more and more lately. My hands land palm up on my thighs and I let out a held-too-long breath. Staring at the bluish granite in front of me, I look down and close my eyes. Another breath and my hands leave my thighs. My head raises to the sky to the heavens - where I know she really is - and my fingers pull at my hair. Then I plead to the only one ever to tell me like it is, the only person to not give me an inch no matter what I have been through.

"Mama, I'm just not sure anymore. I have been doing everything I ever wanted. I play my music. I run our bar. I have my friends." I pull my fingers through my hair and lift them to the sky before slapping them down on my thighs. "I just don't get it. Why the hell am I not feeling satisfied?"

I am looking at the ground trying to figure out life, when the wind blows hard and I am knocked in the head by an acorn. "Ouch! OK, Mama, what am I missing?" Then I look up and the first thing that I see are the words on her headstone. I read them out loud. " 'Love and determined.' Really, Mama? No . . . No way at all." Then a stray dead branch narrowly misses my cheek and I give in.

"Fine, but I promise nothing." Lifting off my knees, I place the same kiss as always to her stone and say my goodbyes. On the way to my truck, I think over all the signs then back to the things I rambled off. I really didn't realize I was missing anything until my talk with Mama. But just as I play back the end of our 'talk,' I come to the only stoplight in town and see on the other side a truck that most often is dirtier and driven by someone with dark skin and hair. This one is way too clean, way to shiny and the person behind it way to soft and styled to make it work. Shaking my head, the radio switches from the drone of the morning talk show to music.

"It's sittin' by the overcoat on the second shelf - the note she wrote that I can't bring myself to throw away." Rob's voice rings out loud and clear.

"Very amusing, Mama. I get it." I say into the open air. But as I do, I glance across the way and meet "his" eyes as his glasses are raised off of his face and placed on top of his head. There is about 40 yards between us, but I swear I see his eyes grow darker and him mouth a curse. I feel the pull - especially with the song filling the cab of the truck - and am overcome with the feel of how long it has been since I have had any action. Then I remember that he is everything I loathe. I hit the gas even harder and take off louder and harder than called for as I rip through the intersection. Blurring past him, I try for the first time in my life to block out Mama and her advice. There is no way in hell "pompous ass" will ever be more then scotch and tips.

"Sorry, Mama." Turning off the radio with an angry punch, I head out of town for what I hope is a relaxing drive on the back roads. Just past the town limits, the radio switches on again. This time a talk show.

"_Love, how do we find it and keep it?" the sugary voice of the good 'Dr. Love' spews on._

"I'm not looking, Mama, and especially not him." I swear to god I hear her clicking her tongue. Driving a few more miles, my truck starts to sputter. Pulling over to the side of the road, I pop the latch for the hood. Straightening, I catch movement in my rearview mirror. A much-too-shiny and very unwanted sight greets me.

"Always pushing." I look up to the heavens and climb out, ready to tell "pretty boy" to keep on moving.

**E/N: **** Okay tell me... this was a short one but the next one that will be up within 24 hours (fully written and chapt 3 almost done) so leave me some love?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A;N **** See I told you the next one was on the way! I want to thank you all for the reviews and alerts and faves! I have a lot planned for this story and can't wait for it to all to unfold. As always Thanks to the lovely Min for the pre-read and Joe for the Edit! Next chapter is pretty much writing itself so it should be along in no time! Have fun!**

**Ed pov**

The morning was off to a fabulous start. After driving in circles for the better part of an hour, I finally gave in and asked at the gas station for directions. I really hadn't thought it was possible to get lost here, but thanks to no road signs and dozens of dirt roads criss-crossing it was. Finally at the stop light, I was headed in the right direction - I hope. My inner mantra repeats over and over - "Play nice, work hard, learn fast (whatever it is I am suppose to learn), and get your ass out of here." I wasn't going to make friends. I wasn't gonna get attached. Just do the job and get out.

Waiting at the pointless stoplight, I spot him. I am sure it is him. No one else has had me so fixated in a long time. Raising my glasses to the top of my head, I narrow my eyes and meet his. When the flash of recognition passes over his face, it goes straight to my pants. "Fuck, no!" I curse to myself and he peels out.

It takes me a minute to realize that the light has changed, but the honking behind me urges me on. Turning down the same road the bartender just took, I take my time heading out to the site where I was meeting the head guy. There is nothing for miles and miles out here. Most of it is our land - well, company land now - but once upon a a time, it was filled with fences and cattle. But in the 70s, dad was a bit of a rebel and went against all advice and jumped in head-first, turning it into a wind farm. Back then, everyone thought he was nuts, but he was the one laughing when he got a contract with not only the government but many major companies. He soon expanded all over the country and also went into the manufacturing of the windmills themselves.

But I am here to learn from the ground up, so I will be out here watching a new field get planted. I was so lost in my own thoughts and the scenery that I almost missed the beat-up truck on the side of the road. I knew jack about cars, but I could at least make sure he had a cell or offer a ride. It was the right thing to do, yup that's it. It had nothing to do with letting my dick take over the thinking. Plus, it was a good way to delay work a bit longer.

Sliding my truck into park, I let it idle as I climb out and approach him. He climbs out as I approach and keeps his back to me. He stiffens, so I can assume he knows it's me or he just doesn't like strangers. Given where he works, I can guess which it is.

"Need some help there?" Not that I really have much to offer.

I follow him around as he lifts the hood. I notice he still hasn't looked at me. "No, man, I got it."

I stop beside him anyway and peer down in the cavity of the ancient beast. I have no clue what's what, but I gotta try and hang onto my "man card." Resting my hand inches from his, he clears his throat and he is finally looking at me. The look is confusion and irritation, but he's looking.

Stepping back, he looks me up and down. I am dressed for field work in my jeans and T-shirt, nothing out of place but his sneer says something is wrong. "Do you know anything about cars?"

Rubbing the back of my neck, I kick at the gravel before looking back up at him. "Um, no, not really, but I have a cell." He shakes his head at me and goes to the cab of his truck. After a minute of fiddling around with some knobs, he holds up a CB mic.

"A cell ain't gonna do you any good out here, man. Nearest cell tower is about 50 miles away and sketchy at best." I pull out my phone and sure enough not a bar or even a roaming notice.

"Sleeping beauty, you out there." There is minute of static. "SB, it's Stripes. You out there?"

After a few more crackles, a woman's voice breaks through. "Heya, Stripes. What up, sexy?"

"Hey, I'm stuck on old 14. The old lady is at it again." Old? Looking over the truck, I would say old is an understatement.

"I can send Jake out as soon as he gets in. Should be about an hour. That OK?" I see his shoulders fall, but he answers back that it's OK.

"I will see if I can work my magic should be ready by morning."

"Thanks, SB." He signs off and hangs up the mic. Looking up, he seems shocked that I am still standing there. I'm not sure why I am, but there is something holding me there. Wasn't I just telling myself not to make friends.

Besides, I obviously got the wrong vibe last night, considering how the woman on the CB sounded.

"Hey, thanks for stopping man, but I got this covered." Before I know what I am doing, I shove my hand out at him.

"Ed, Edward Cullen." He looks at my hand and passes by it. What the fuck? Slamming the hood down, he gives me that odd look again.

"I know who you are." My confusion must show. "This is a town of five thousand. There isn't much to keeping a secret."

"Well . . . OK . . . Well as long as you have it covered, I'll get out of you hair then." I'm not sure why I feel like a kicked puppy. I'm usually a "fuck'em if they don't like me" kind of guy. But for some reason, it gets me as I climb back in my truck. There is something about this guy that I want him to like me. I want the boring chit-chat.

Driving down the road, I take one last look in the rearview. He is standing there in front of his truck, long legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded across his chest. Yup, he is hot, but - Fuck it! - not worth it. I'm getting out of here as soon as I can.

**Jas pov**

I'm not sure why I was so rude to the guy. It's not really like me, but when he walked up to the truck, I could feel the tension rolling off of me. When the pretty boy's attitude of "I'm rich and a phone call can fix anything" came out, I had no more patience for him.

My time waiting on Jake and the tow truck gave me a lot of time to do what I do best - think. Thanks to Jake running on Native time, I know that the hour could likely turn into two. Good thing I don't have to open until just before five, and can ride my bike until the truck is fixed.

I had no idea there was anything wrong with my life. How the hell is it that in a matter of twelve hours, I went from a just-dandy life to feeling a hole in it? I was fine until I started talking to Mama. No, wait . . . that isn't right. I was fine until _he_ walked into my bar. One Mr. Edward Cullen . . . Mr. I Have It All. The one that is to blind to see how lucky he is no matter what his little family problem is.

The whole town knew he was coming. It had been the talk of the town for a few weeks now. Ever since his father passed away last month, the town was in limbo on what would happen here. The wind fields employed a good portion of the town and a few of the surrounding ones. It pretty much kept the whole town alive. Each and every business was going because of them, even my own - in the summer, especially mine. The workers filed in on hot days to cool down with a cold one.

I think we are all still on edge, not knowing why he is here. Most of us fear the worst - that he is selling. I mean why else would Mr. Young-and-rich-party-boy come all the way down here, instead of living it up in LA or Seattle? It didn't make sense. Lord knows he isn't down here to check on things. From what I hear, Sr.'s brother Charlie runs a smooth ship and was just talking last week about the new mills going up. Whatever he is doing here, I sure as hell hope him and his designer jeans and 50-dollar T-shirt are in and out of this town quickly. Just as the thought passes, the wind kicks up and the open truck door I had been resting my feet on flies open wider. With a thud, my feet hit the ground and I quickly correct myself before I fall face first into the road.

Before I have a chance to question it though, I hear the rattle of Rose's tow truck rumbling down the road. A check of my watch shows I am pretty spoton with my guess on when Jake would get here. Like a pro, he whips around and backs up to my rear bumper, before hopping out and flashing a glaring white smile.

"Hey, man, the old rust bucket acting up already?" Jake is a pretty one to look at - not my type, but pretty none the less. "Didn't she just come off the rack last week?"

Jake never missed a chance to give me shit about my truck, but it was my mama's and there is no way I was sending her off the the scrap heap anytime soon. "I think it is just a few loose wires or something, man. Weren't you the one to work on her last?" I lift a brow at him. Yup, that shuts him up.

"OK, well, let's get her to the hospital and we will see what 'someone' missed." I laugh as I climb on in and we make the journey back into town. The conversation switches to the news of Cullen being in town. I try to avoid it, but he doesn't let up. Eventually I give a little, but don't let him in on the fact that I had already met him. But he rambles on as though the news is the greatest thing since sliced bread.

"I mean, well, what if he is here to expand? Imagine the business boom, and then there is the new people and the chance of something good. Geesh, stop being so negative."

"Jake, please, for once take a minute to think about the other side of the fence. What if . . ." I see a flash of hurt and I feel the flick at the back of my ear. I cringe and hope it goes unnoticed, but I have never been good at hiding things.

"See, Mama thinks the same way." Jake laughs. He is one of the few people that believes me, in fact ,even knows about my constant companion. That is only because of his heritage and the fact that his Pa actually saw her by me at a tribe meeting shortly after she passed.

"Mama has her own agenda." Holding up my hand, I stop him as his mouth opens. "Not going there, Jake." He looks like he is going to continue anyway, but I know just the way to stop him. "So how is the girl drama going? Still trying to convince Ali that nothing happened with you and Bella?"

His mouth flaps a few times before closing and staying that way.

"Thought so. Good luck there." The rest of the ride in is silent - well, except for my own voice in my head. That has been the most annoying thing all my life. I have heard them - the voices and things my family would have to say here and there, but usually they move on. Me, though? I can't ever get myself to go away. Always in my head, always thinking and less than 20 hours later, it is feeling awful crowded in there. I am used to myself being in there, but Ed needs to take a hike.

As we pull up to the garage, I hop out to go in search of Rose as Jake unhooks my truck. I find her under the hood of an old Buick.

"Hey there, Doc!" Pulling her head out from under the hood, she beams at me. Through the grease and grime, even with her long blonde hair tucked up in her hat and her body hidden under the coveralls, she is still one of the prettiest women I have ever seen.

"Hey there, Tex, so what's going on today?" She nods out to the drive as the last chains are unhooked.

"No clue, you're the pro here. Was riding smooth then, all of a sudden, it sputtered and conked out."

"Sounds like the fuel pump, I can have a new one in by the end of the week. I swear - with all you have put into that thing, you could have a whole new truck." Rose is always telling me that, but it is only because she is actually itching to restore it fully.

"I like her. She has character." She nods like she understands.

"So I hear there is a new rich hotty in town." I groan.

"Not you too. God, it is all I hear about and he has been here less than 24 hours." I rub my hand down my face in frustration. When I look at her, she has a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing, just interesting, that's all." She turns back to her tools and rearranges them.

"What, what's interesting?" I am totally lost on whatever she thinks she is getting at.

"It's just usually when new people are in town, you are all about finding out about them, listening to the rumors and gossip, just like your Mama would have. But I mention this guy and you get a bristly. Either you have a thing for him already - which is no fair trying to call dibs before anyone even really gets a shot - or you hated him on sight." She is now facing me head cocked, hip on and finger on her chin.

"Honestly, Rose, I have no clue what you are talking about. I have neither good nor bad opinion of him. He is here. I served him last night. He left - end of story." I left out the part of thinking about those eyes all night and my irrational behavior this morning. But only because I know how Rose can get when she has the slightest bit of an upper hand.

"Mmhmm, I will let you say that, but I will keep this one on the table awhile. I will figure it out." I flipped her the bird as a wave good-bye, listening to her maniacal laughter all the way out.

Luckily the walk home was short - just a few blocks - because at just past noon, it was sweltering already. The wind helped some but not much, since it was from the south and only slightly cooler than the air temp.

The plan was to grab a sandwich to go at the diner, nap and a shower before work. The sight of a shiny new truck parked in front of the diner changed that plan to cold pizza, a restless nap and a cold shower. I refused to think about why I had to take the cold shower and went on auto pilot to work. Living above the bar was handy when you own the place, run the place and are pretty much the only employee. Garrett helped out on the weekends and holidays, but for the most part, it was a one man show.

After flipping on the lights and filling the sinks, it was time to twist the lock and turn the sign. I didn't expect anyone right away The first usually shuffle in around five and we hit a peak at about eight. I loved it here. I loved that I could forget about my own issues and just be there for others. Mama always wanted me to branch out and explore the world - even try my luck in Nashville - but I couldn't imagine it. Near the end, I think she agreed that I might not ever be rich and famous, but I am happy right where I am. She would tell me it suited me and that I was born to do this because I soothed people. I don't know if that is true or not, but I have been told many times that I'm a good listener.

I don't even have to look up when I hear the bell chime. I just grab a mug and pour. "Hey, Sam, how's the leg?" Sliding the icy glass in front of him, he takes his usual stool.

"Good today, too damn hot for it to act up. I'll let you know when the rains are coming in." I nod and tap the bar as I take his money.

"Thanks, man. I trust that leg of yours over the weather man any day." Sam was a great guy. He was in his early 40s and was gonna be a big star playing football, but a horse accident killed that dream for him. Now he runs the local outdoors store.

"So you hear anything about what the big wig is doing in town?" So much for losing myself in work.

"Nope, sorry. You probably know more then me." I could go through the whole I-don't-give-a-damn, but I better just face the facts that he is gonna be all I hear about.

The regulars shuffle in one after another and the place is alive. I hear every array of ideas from the townspeople - everything from them closing down to the wild idea of them moving the whole factory down here. The ladies all just wanted to know the important stuff - What does he look like? Is he single? What's his type? Oh, how I long for an alien abduction story right now. Anything to change the topic.

The week proceeded the same as the first day, but there were slowly facts trickling in from some of the field men. I found myself listening, even though I didn't want to. I was just drawn to it.

"I was kind of feeling sketchy about him the first few days, but I gotta say, once we got him out of those designer big-city clothes, he really seems to be catching on." Seth was telling Eric. They both have been working the windfields since they were out of high school.

"Still can't figure out why he is down here though." Eric was saying, "I'm not buying the whole 'learning the business his daddy created.' " Seth nodded in agreement.

I wander down the bar and try not to be interested in the local mystery, but my mind wanders back to it as I fill mugs and mix drinks. From what I can gather, he really is here to learn, but only because he is being forced to. Figures.

Marcus was in yesterday when I was open for lunch. I am only open for it twice a week, but he never misses it. He said that when Sr. bought the farm, his will was ironclad. Jr. works the whole business or "bye-bye money."

The town still saw him as somewhat of a mystery. I found myself disliking him just on principle. I can't wrap my head around how someone could care so little about how hard his father and uncle worked to put him where he is today. In life, I have run into that type more than I care to count. The type that live to party and spend what others worked so hard for. The type that think just because of their DNA, they have some right to it all. They flash money and a smile and think it is enough. Then when something doesn't go their way - when they are called out on something - it is everyone else's fault.

I didn't hear the bell, but I know who just walked in by the sound of the room - voices drop and hushed whispers spread. Just great.

I catch him in the mirror and see him looking a lot different than when I saw him on Monday. He still has the air of arrogance about him, but at least he fit in with the natives. That is until he steps up and slides his credit card across the bar.

"Hey man, I'll take a Bud." I can tell by the way he orders and looks around and takes in the people around the bar. He may look the part, but he is still a rich party boy.

I slide the card back across the bar and remind him of just where he is. "Not with plastic, you won't. ATM's in the back." He briefly looks taken back, then gets a sheepish look. Could it be he was embarrassed that his flash didn't work here? Or at least with me? Whatever it is, I couldn't care less.

I watched him casually through the night, noticing the way the town was taken with him. Girls were falling over themselves to get his attention The guys want to know about the big city life and what sport he was into. Pretty much everyone was sucked in.

"That one is trouble, my friend." Rose, perched on her usual stool, points her bottle in the direction of the corner table.

"Nah, Rose, he is just the shiny new toy. Soon everyone will back to normal." As I plunge the glasses in and out of the water, I sneak a glance and a chill runs down my spine as he chooses that moment to look up too.

I hear a cackle from Rose. "See, I told you - trouble with a capital T." Taking another swig from her beer, she wipes a dribble from her chin. "But I wasn't really talking about the whole god-like good looks, I just have a feeling. That guy is gonna really stir up the cosmic energy around here."

I laugh at her, just as the sprayer hose jumps out of the water, soaking the entire front of me. That has Rose practically falling off her stool laughing. As I use the hem of my shirt to wipe my face, I hear a mug hitting the floor. Looking up, I see two bright green eyes fixed on my stomach.

"Subtle, Mama, real subtle."

**Ed pov**

The week started out putting me in my place and didn't prove to let up as the week went on. The first day was brutal. I worked out sure, five days a week, but I never knew I had some of these muscles. No one really knew what to think of me at first I am sure. Some were stand-offish, others seemed nervous but approached. I get it - son of the boss, here in the skids. I could almost read their minds. "Is he spying? Is he looking for a reason to shut down or sell?"

It was nothing short of hell, that is, until Marcus came on site. He was the head here. Back in the day, he was my father's right-hand man on the ranch and when the company grew, he moved to running operations down here. I have known Marcus all my life, so when he came out to the fields, it was a huge relief.

I had been pretty surly and grudgingly going through my day, but he gave me a few pointers and not so nicely told me to get the stick out of my ass. That and lose the designer jeans. I have to admit it was kind of a slap in the face but I did. I even started talking to the guys a bit. I still wasn't gonna get close to them or be friends really. But it is a lot easier to get through the day with random bull-shitting than whispers and stares.

I learned pretty quickly and was working with the crew by the end of the week. The guys weren't half bad. We ate lunch at the diner most days and on lucky days, I spotted _him _out around town.

"Hey, Garrett, what's his story?" I nod my head out the window as he was walking into the drug store across the street.

He looks out the window and then looks at me with an "a-ha" look. "That is Jasper, a good friend of mine and bandmate." Taking a drink of his soda, he cocks his head to the side. "Anything specific you wanna know?" He give me a half grin.

I shake my head and go back to my lunch. "Nope, just wondering."

The look he is giving me tells me he doesn't buy it and the slight bulge rising in my pants tells me I don't either.

He laughs and wipes his mouth. "Jasper and his mama have run the bar as far back as I can remember. Well, he now runs it by himself, since his mama passed about six months ago. We play there on the weekends."

I groan at the thought. I may have been flash and money, but when I went for a guy, I went for musicians. I try to discreetly adjust myself and take a long drink of my water. "A band, huh? Wh- what kind of music?"

Garrett is laughing hard at me. "Oh man, this is gonna be fun."

"What are you talking about?" I am sure he has figured me out. Emmett said I was always to easy to read, but I am not gonna come right out with it.

"We play a bit of everything. He is single. Yes, he plays that way and boy, if you wanna get with him, you have your work cut out for you." With that, he throws some bills down and slaps me on the shoulder.

I have no idea what he is thinking, but I am sure I am just curious because he was so put off by me the other day. Yup, that's it. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I am horny as hell and he hits all the right points.

"We are playing Saturday night. Come check us out." I can only nod and strain my neck to try and get a peek inside the store. I can still hear Garrett laughing as he starts his truck.

I make an ass out of myself when it takes three tries to open up the truck. Luckily no one was around to see.

The rest of the day, I avoided Garrett as much as I could, which was easy since he was foreman on another crew. He was a good guy and I never had an issue with him, but I would be damned if he dogged me the rest of the day over it. I got enough back home from my friend Emmett.

I tried to lose myself in the work at hand and learning the ropes. It worked mostly, but it was a good half hour drive back to the hotel. Thirty minutes is a lot of time for the mind to wander - and it did. It wandered to the imperfect perfection of everything - from his flawed yet perfect face all the way down his body.

Sure enough, my shower was needed for more than one reason by the time I was back in my room. After some much-needed release, I flopped down on the bed in nothing but my towel and checked my messages. Most of them were from friends - no doubt looking for a hook up to a party, or an in for a popular restaurant. Sure enough, by the fourth partially listened to message, I end up deleting all the rest - except for the one from Emmett. Emmett gets a call back. He is my other half, the insane to my to serious. I was the anchor to reign him in when he went a bit bat-shit at times, just like he was the one to pull me out of any funk.

We have been best friends since we were little. His mom was our cook and like a second mom to me. Our friendship was never based on money. He couldn't give a shit if I had a buck or a million. He was good people.

Hitting "call back," it only takes a few seconds for him to pick up. "About time you got around to calling me back, you fairy."

"Fuck you, meathead. I been doin' a real man's work. What have you been doing, jerking off and hitting the gym?" We always have had a special way to talk to each other.

"Screw you! I hit the gym because I own it. And when have you ever done a real man's work? Aren't you worried you might ruin your pretty little manicure?" Yup, he loves me.

"Honestly man, it really hasn't been that bad. I survived the first week." I hear him snort.

"Okay, Ed, who is he?" Now I am the one to snort and shake my head.

"No one, man. I just have had a lot of time to think. Working isn't all bad. I mean, there is no way in hell I want to do this shit the rest of my life, but, I don't know, it isn't that bad." Truthfully, I have no idea where this is coming from. I started off strong and determined to hang on to my anger, but somehow it is slipping away.

"Okay, bud. You keep telling yourself that, but you have to be bored as hell - missing the parties and the pretty boys." Now he is digging, just to find the "city me."

"I don't know about that. I mean, there is a bar here but, early mornings and shit, I don't have time to miss anything."

"Well, it sounds pretty fucking lame to me." Emmett isn't really one to party hard, but he knows how to have a good time. I have no doubt he could make his own fun here.

"Well, there is a band playing tomorrow I might check it out. As for tonight, probably just gonna crash early." Looking around the room, it is a bit of a depressing thought.

"Friday night in a hotel room in small town Texas? Edward, tell me the truth have you been brainwashed? Is this a cult thing? Did they touch you in the naughty parts? I can be there with the rescue squad in no time." He acts all serious, but I can hear the humor in his voice.

I can't help but laugh and miss him. "Nah, man, it's all good. Maybe I will go out for a beer, mingle a bit." See Jasper.

"That's more like the Ed I know. Go chase some tail. Wait! Do they have any fairies down there? Besides you, that is?" In a second, I am picturing Jasper pinned up against a wall with my tongue down his throat and choke on the beer I had been sipping.

"I knew it! There is someone!" I can see him now, jumping up and pointing at me.

"No, Emm, not really, no." I try to stop the runaway train before it starts.

"Okay, whatever man, but if anyone gives you shit or you need support, I can be there in no time flat." And I know he means it.

"Well, I will hold you to that. I guess I will slap on some jeans and go grab a cold one. I will get ahold of you soon." After a little more random shit-giving I promise to call him and get dressed.

The bar was busier than I had seen it so far. There were a few familar faces, and I notice it becomes a bit more hushed as I walk up to the bar. There I proceed to make an ass of myself by sliding my black card at him. Not that the others would have been much better. I feel my cheeks burn a little, especially as I see the "cash only" sign over his shoulder. I manage to withdraw a modest amount and get an icy tap beer with little other assholery.

Within an hour, he has a curvy blonde settle up next to him at the end of the bar, talking and laughing. I had found a group of guys from work and their wives and girlfriends to hang with. I try to keep my attention on them, but it keeps drifting back to Jasper and the blonde.

"They are just friends," Kate, Garrett's girl, tells me as she bumps my arm. I look down at her with a confused look. I can see what Gar sees in her, with her long blonde hair that looks like silk and her hazel eyes. "Really trust me, like the best of friends."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you are getting at?" I am the master of "Sorry, you are confused." "It is fine. I was just checking the place out."

She laughs hard and slaps me harder than I thought a 5' 6" slip of woman could. "Wow, you are more full of shit then a bull pasture on a dude ranch."

"No really, I . . ." Her hand in my face stops me mid-words.

"Please darlin'. You have taken every chance you could to find an angle to look at him. We may be small town. We may be Texas, but we aren't bigots or homophobes. It's cool." I knew right then that things were changing.

I grew comfortable as the night wore on and I was well on my way to buzzed. I was making plans and enjoying Kate and her friend Sasha, joining in with the guy talk and buddying up with a few of the guys. As the night winds down, we are all saying good-bye and making plans to meet up to hear the band tomorrow. Just as I am hugging Kate good-bye, I see it.

Something went down behind the bar and Jasper was soaking wet down the front, lifting his shirt and wiping water off his face.

The mug is slipping from my hand. His abs are tone and dark. His pants are tight and wet, and I am fucked . . . .


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **** So frakkin sorry for the wait. I had 4 kids starting school and a vacay with my babies for the first time in almost 20yrs to the state fair. Came back and had to get back in mom state. All reasons aside I am back and gave you almost a double chapter here. It is not totally action packed but has set us up nicely for what I hope where the story is going. Like I have said this story is My music driven and will reflect that. Also the bits of the paranormal are going to peek through more and more (not spooky just ... weellll you will see) I am back abd writing as fierce as I was with Steel and my drabbles so I hope you enjoy and share like you did with the others! Many thanks to my beautiful Min for pre-reading and pointing out all my mistakes in the sexiest way! and to Hubby for working through this massive chapter on his night off! Please leave your thoughts and reviews! I promise to be on a 7-10 day schedule from here on... (I hope.. lol)**

**Jas pov**

After a few flaps of his mouth, he said something quickly to Garrett, handed him a few bills and bolted. I can't be sure, but I think he was embarrassed at getting caught checking me out. I feel a swirl of emotions ranging from dread to cocky confidence.

"Wipe the smirk off your face, Jazz. It's very unbecoming." Rose had caught the whole chain of events happen. And going by the look on her face, she is amused and going to enjoy every minute of this.

"I'm not smirking." I was, but Rose and I wear matching hard heads, so I wasn't about to let her know.

"You are very much smirking. You got a rush that you were able to throw the pretty boy for a loop." She drains her bottle before going on. "You flashed your shit, pretty boy saw, and this is going to be a very amusing summer."

"There . . . I . . . It's not . . . !" She doesn't let me finish. She just stands, flips her hair over her shoulder and winks.

"You keep working on that sentence. Also you might want to say a 'thank you' to your mama. I think she might get you laid once this century." I scowl at her back as her evil laugh leaves with her.

As I start cleaning some of the glasses that are piling up, I think about what happened. I get a little rush, yes - I mean, hey, it has been awhile and I have my needs but . . . no, I can't. He is a spoiled rich boy. He is only here playing the role to go back to the life. I would be nothing more than a cheap distraction - another guy in another town. Nope, not gonna happen. But then there was that look, the blushes, the dropping of the glass.

No, no no. I don't know him more than gossip and a few encounters, and that is how it is gonna stay. Not gonna be a cheap thrill. But, well, honestly, I don't really know him. I know he was an ass when I first saw him. I also know though that he IS working hard, trying to get to know a few people. Maybe a talk wouldn't hurt.

Garrett came behind the bar and handed me a twenty before he grabbed the broom and mop.

"What the hell is this for?" I ask, holding up the bill.

"For the broken glass. What the hell you think?" OK, fuck the blushes. We are right back to grade A jackass.

"What the hell? The glass cost me a buck and a half. Does he think I am so hard up that I need this? Does he have any clue how many mugs get smashed a week? Hell! For football season, I order ten extra cases!" I know I am getting irrationally pissed, but - Fuck! The man whom I have shared less then a hundred words with gets to me.

"Hey man, I think this is getting to you in a way no way I understand, but I got the bar. Go grab a smoke and chill." His voice and the look on his face show me there is no place to argue. Being as I have always seen him as a big brother, I don't bother trying. "I mean it. I got the bar."

I toss my bar rag down by the sink and don't bother a second look as I shove out the back door hard.

Pacing, I reach for the smokes in my back pocket and stop a dozen times over. Finally I think back to the look in his eyes, the red in his cheeks and how quick he turned away. I recall - as I put the Camel between my lips - the feelings that surged through me at the moment our eyes met. I fish my lighter out of my front pocket. The satisfaction I felt when he turned first. Then the fact that Rose - and probably more than one other in the bar - saw it too has me dragging deep. The confusion of it all has me kicking the Dumpster and screaming in pain as I remember too late that I'm not wearing my boots today.

**Ed pov **

Did I really do that shit? Did I just see some abs and a wet denim crotch and lose my shit?

"Yup, you smooth mother fucker. You did," I answer myself out loud as I hit the pavement hard and light a smoke. I wince at the harshness of not having my own brand here. "Real smooth, asshole, real smooth."

The night was going so well. Well, I guess to well. I hadn't really once gotten caught by him when I was checking him out. I didn't mean to, but I wanted to feel out what was going on with him and the blond. Who wouldn't want her hanging on your every word. Who knows . . . I thought I caught the vibe, but maybe he plays both teams.

This infatuation needs to stop. It seriously has been too long if I am spending my time obsessing over this random guy I don't even really know. I beat the pavement hard the whole walk back, beating myself up at the same time. I was always together. I always played it cool. A week ago, I never would have been such an ass, especially in public.

"What the fuck is happening to you, man?" I catch myself before I completely pull my hair out and shove the offending hand in my pocket. Throwing the last of my smoke into the alley, my heart stops for a second when I hear a scolding drawl.

"Hey! Mind not littering on my property, man?" After my heart starts up again, I see Jasper push off the wall and toss his butt into a bucket.

I stand just staring at him for a minute until he looks down where my cigarette is still smoldering, then back up to me. "Well? Ya gonna pick it up? Sure ain't no butlers or fancy maids to do it for you."

Instantly my mood darkens. I'm not sure what I have done to piss this guy off, but he really has that stick stuck up there, that's for sure. Bending down, I pick put the smoke and snuff it out. I won't give him the satisfaction of putting it in his bucket, so I pocket it. For what seems like hours, neither of us move. My hands are stuffed deep in my pocket and one of his is on the door handle. Both of our expressions are neutral. Then as he finally moves and opens the door, the look he gives me has me spinning again. His lips are curled up in a dark smile, but there is heat in his eyes.

Long after he is inside, I am still standing there. With this guy, I don't know which end is up. As I force my feet to move, I'm not sure I want to even bother to figure this guy out. I'm not here for this. I'm here to learn and with every passing day, I am more into it. Something about a hard day's work and I actually start to grow up a bit more.

Not that I will admit it to my mother - hell, probably not even any of my friends. Maybe Emmett, but he has never seen me as just the "good time" guy. Nope, he is the rare person that actually believes I have a soul. Man I miss that guy. I haven't seen him since about two weeks before I left. He was out of town for another opening of a gym and to flex his shit for Men's Health - the show off. And I have been here a week already. He is the only one I really ever have felt a loss when not around. Even my parents couldn't hold that place. Emmett was my glue, my anchor.

"Now I am just depressing myself," I mumble as I let myself into my room. Throwing my keys down, kicking my shoes off and flopping down on the bed, the night really doesn't improve. Opening my email, I get notice from my mother's secretary informing me that a house has been rented for me and should be fully stocked by Monday evening.

Just fucking great, I know what this news means. It means this isn't gonna be a quick in-and-out trip to nowhere Texas. The email from my mother confirms it. In it, she lets me know that she and the board expect me to follow through completely - meaning I will be working every aspect of the business.

I look at my phone and once again am tempted to take Emmett up on his offer to come down. But I didn't want to pull what he will surely call a bitch move, so I leave it sitting on the night stand. I don't even bother with the other emails. I am sure they are the same drivel as the voicemails I have been ignoring all week.

Once again, I crash to the TV droning on in the background and, thankfully, have a mostly dreamless sleep. Also thankfully, I remembered to close the drapes the other day and just kept them closed.

I hadn't realized how tough the week had been - until I woke up sore and stiff and with an alarm clock that read almost noon. It felt good to get a solid amount of sleep, but every muscle in my body protested my moving. I managed to move though, and after a quick search through my luggage, I located my suit and headed for the hot tub.

The pool area was pretty full of kids, but luckily only one person was in the hot tub. Unfortunately, it was someone I was not sure I wanted to see. I debated a quick exit until he looked up and caught me there. I could fake it - that I was going for a swim - but there was no way I wanted to climb in with World War III in the form of nine-year-olds going on in the pool.

Sucking it up, I march over, laying my towel and card key on the bench and kicking off my flip flops. I try not to look right at him as I sink down in the soothing water. It is weird how I can feel the tension in my body release and at the same time feel the tension in the air build.

I buck it up though and am the first to talk. "Surprised to see you here."

"Yeah, well, my hot tub is on the fritz and my personal masseuse is out of the country, so Pearl is letting me slum it and use the one here." His clipped answer gives me a twitch in my jaw. I don't even know the guy, but he takes every chance to pick at me for the money in my pocket.

"Sorry to say anything. I'll let you have your peace." I move to get out, but his hand on my wrist stops me.

"Hey, sorry. That was out of line. I'm not normally such an ass." His eyes have me believing he means it. I nod at him and I ease back in the water and he slides back across from me.

The silence is awkward - even with the noise all around us. So once again, I start to talk first.

"So . . . um . . . well . . . OK, this is weird. I'm never sure what to talk about with strangers in a hot tub - especially ones that kind of hate me." His face gives nothing away as he cocks his head to the side and his damp curls shift and fan out.

"I never said I hate you. I don't particularly care for you, but I never said I hated you." His tone is ev-en and doesn't have any malice in it, but I am nonetheless confused.

"Well, you have made that pretty clear. But I can't figure out why." There are a few theories floating around, but I won't voice them. "Did I accidently run over your dog or something?"

"Tell me something, why are you here?" His eyes narrow as he spreads his arms out beside him on the edge of the tub while he waits.

"I'm working the family business. With my dad gone, someone needs to take charge." I am sure the rumors are running wild, but I am giving him the "short and sweet" while sticking with the truth.

**Jas pov**

The water was just what I needed this morning. My long injured muscles were tight from a rough night's sleep. I was glad for the chance to use the hotel's hot tub and sauna. Growing up with Pearl as a second mom, I spent hours playing in the pool. After the accident, I even recovered here since there was no way I was going to make it up the flight of stairs to our place. Now I come here a few times a week to relax and keep my body fluid.

The tub was doing its job just fine until I spotted him at the door. The flash of hair caught my attention right away, but I was able to look away before he saw me. I watched from under my hair as he made his choice whether or not to bolt. I wasn't sure which I wanted. I wouldn't mind watching him closer, but I wasn't sure I could keep my thoughts to myself. When our eyes met, I knew I was going to have to do my best.

As he slid into the water, I wasn't sure which thoughts were going to be tougher to keep in. His toned body was a thing of beauty and I had to remind myself that this guy was not someone I wanted to think about that way.

It wasn't that I hated him. Hell, I didn't even know him. But I know - knew - guys like him. I have no time or interest in people like him. Just about the time I have it all under control and ready to just ignore him completely, my libido kicks in and says, "We could make time - you know, a few hours in a big bed."

I chose to ignore the voices and just be straight up about it.

I had to admire the evasive answer. It showed he wasn't a total airhead, but that was pretty much a given with the way he carries himself. He has that "Ivy league education" about him.

Looking him over, I try my hardest to find some kind of flaw - anything whatsoever to make him less attractive. But physically I can't. His square jaw is perfectly shaded with his morning stubble. His hair is perfectly messy and showing signs of just waking up. His body - Christ! His body is fine. Not overly worked, but fit and well-muscled where it needs to be, his chest is dusted with fine hair a shade darker than on his head with the hint of a happy trail leading into the water. Thank god for the water or else I would be next trying to figure out what size gun he was packing.

I had to snap out of this or I would be sitting here long after he had gone. I really didn't want to freak out any parents or scar any small children.

"So, pretty rich boy gives up the money, the cars, the clubs, to work the wind fields? Just like that?" I try and hold onto the bitterness, but it is hard to do with a semi and the smirk he gives me. I can't imagine what I just said that would garner that. I want it to piss me off, but it actually turns me on more. "What the hell could you be smiling at?"

"You think I'm pretty?" My eyes are glued to the way his mouth forms the words. Then what he said registers.

"You know you are good looking. No one goes through life looking like you and doesn't know." I manage to put a little snark in my tone and look away. I start studying the fine lines on my forearms that are still visible through the tattoos. "But pretty doesn't make up for the fact that you have a huge ego and a chip on your shoulder as big as the private jet I am sure you arrived in. And I can bet you are only here to keep in good with the family or something. This is not a life you would have chosen for yourself. I bet you are the type that thought he could get through life on daddy's money and his good looks."

"Well, true. I do know I am good-looking, but YOU think I'm pretty." I can feel his eyes on me but refuse to look up. I hear that movement of the water and see the levels shift. Looking back to him, I see he is mimicking my posture. "All I can say to that is - ditto. As far as the rest?" He shrugs his shoulders. "I never gave much thought much about what I wanted to do. True, I have never been into the family biz, but I was never asked really. I think it is pretty sucky that this came out of nowhere, yes, so the chip is somewhat deserved. But I'm here now and doing it, so I think that should be a point or two for me. "

I feel the water shift again and this time he is standing and grabbing his towel. I really wanted to bolt myself. He has me on edge, but I stay, keeping the worst of my scars below the water. No need to show Mr. Perfect just how different we are.

"Well, you keep telling yourself that and play your game nicely." My tone is pretty much dismissive and I hope he leaves.

"If I have learned anything, it is to play nicely - very nicely."

That has me whipping my head back in his direction. I briefly catch a bulge in his suit before he wraps his towel around his trim waist. I know he caught me looking, but a slight smile is his only reaction. Wish I could say my look was just as pleasant, but I am sure my mouth is hanging open and I look like I belong in the looney bin.

There was no time to respond, but I could have sworn I heard a small chuckle out of him as he left the pool area.

There is no doubt the man is sin, and no denying my dick has potential to play right now, but I will not be anyone's plaything. No way in hell I am going to be his "bit of fun" while he is in town.

Climbing out of the water, I towel off. As I go over the deep scars and twisted muscles in my thigh, I fully deflate. There is no way he would be as flirty after he saw all these. Nope, the Edward Cullens of the world went for the perfect and flawless, at least in the looks department.

"You know - they aren't as horrific as you think they are, and anyone that can't see past them into your beautiful soul isn't worth flea spit." I have to smile at the comment.

"You know, Pearl, you sound just like mama sometimes." I look up to the woman that is pretty much my only parent figure since mama passed. Her over-the-top, teased-out white-blonde mess of hair was as high as ever in the same big Texas style she has been wearing since she was a teenager. Along with the too tight jeans and heels, her cleavage was also showing past her low-cut shirt.

Other parts of the world would call her over the top and out of date and dressing wrong for her age. For me, it was just Pearl - and Pearl was pure Texas.

"Sugar, I'm only passin' on what she is whispering in my ear." I can only snort and shake my head as I wrap my towel around my hips.

"Now Auntie, since when do you listen to mama?" I laugh and she smiles back as she give my shoulder a squeeze.

"I listen when it comes to you. I listen when she is right and this time she is. We've been watching you year after year get lonelier over the years. You are gonna need to listen to whatever she is telling you, whichever way she is pushing you." Kissing my cheek, she moves over to collect the towel bin. On her way through the door, she turns back to me. "The right one is out there, and you need to get over some of your own hang-ups and let him in before you wind up grey-haired and alone, whittling on a porch in a rocker."

"Another jewel from Mama?"

She shakes her head - her can-of-hair-sprayed hair not moving an inch. "No, sugar. That one is all Pearl!" She cracks her gum and pushes out the door butt first and winks at me. "Good luck tonight, I will try to catch a few songs."

I tried to shake it all off and played it cool the rest of the morning. I got back to my place, showered, changed and ate. Then I slapped down a few songs I might want to add to the playlist tonight, while I thought about the morning at Pearls.

My thoughts got me a bit pissed. I really had no hang ups - really I didn't. Mama and her were always on me about it. Yes, I hated my scars, but they didn't make me. That moment in time didn't make me. I am the same ass I have always been. I do my job, play my music, hang with my friends. Small town simple life - no pressure, just good times and good life. Sure I have had a few shitty guys run through my life - and one major one. But for the most part, since the accident and the hellish year after, I haven't been lonely. I haven't felt like I was missing out. I could never figure out why they were always pushing.

Leaning over the counter, I go over the playlist one more time. Most are our standard play, a few are ones we have only messed around with, and well, maybe one or two reflect my bitter mood. One for sure I should just scratch off, but I don't.

The day was nothing out of the ordinary - made the calls to the guys, checked with Rose about running the bar, called Sam in to give her a hand if it got to busy. Food, smoke, load the truck - the norm - only problem was he kept creeping back into my thoughts. At first, it was a thought about how tone his abs were. As it catches me, I drop the amp on my foot.

Pissed off, I think about how arrogant he is and get my brain back on track. I think about the smug way he enters a room - the way he walks in like he owns the world, the way he walks out of a room satisfied he made everyone want to be him, the way his pant hug his firm toned ass and the way it flexed . . .

"Fuck! OW!" The cabinet door must have popped open and I whacked my head on it. Slamming it shut hard, I glare at it.

"Settle, man! What did that cabinet ever do to you?" Rose saunters in and inspects for damage on the door I treated harshly.

"Fuck off! I whacked my head and it hurt." Gathering up the rest of my things and loading my pockets, I toss her the bar keys.

Catching them mid-air, she can barely keep the smirk off her face. "Awe, did poor widdle Jaspwer gets an owwie in his head? Do you want Rosie to kiss it all betters?"

"Fuck off, Rose." I flip her the bird as I grab my jacket off the couch. "You know you always said - you wanted to come across as a real lady, but you are missing your mark a bit, hun."

I hear a snort from her. As I turn to face her, we both head down the stairs. "Jasper, sweetie pie. I never said I wanted to come across as a real lady, just a believable woman." Flipping her hair over her shoulder and strutting out into the hall, I almost wish I was into her as I watch her ass.

With a stop at the top of the stairs and a wink, she laughs out, "I think I am doing just fine in that department."

Following her down into the bar, I help her do some prep before the guys get here to set up. Normally everything is here already. But our last gig was for a wedding, so the process will take a good hour to get everything set back right.

"So - want to fill me in on your 'sour grapes' mood?" I knew it wouldn't take her long to start fishing. "Would it happen to have anything to do with a tall rich stranger that is so soaked in testosterone that he oozes sex?"

I try to put on my best baffled face. "I, a - what? I have no idea what the hell you are talking about." I try to keep up the innocent act, but know she isn't buying it. I try not to think just how much sex the man does in fact ooze, and about the fact that I would like to be on the receiving end of all of that testosterone.

I feel the towel smack my ass as Rose barks out a laugh. "Ha! I knew it."

"You know nothing, Rose." Doing a double check of the bottles on the back bar, I can see her leaning back, arms crossed and brow raised. She never lets me get away with anything. As long as I have known her, she has always drug things out of me.

"Fine, I think he is hot, and it pisses me off. There, you happy?" Pushing away from the counter, her smile widens.

"There, that wasn't so bad now was it? Now all you have to do is liquor him up and drag him up to your cave." I know she is all about the "getting it on." She hasn't had a steady guy in her life in a long time, if ever, but no way that is not me.

"No way in hell, Rose."

Moving on to check the kegs, she is right on my heels. "Why in the hell not? Seems to me, you could use a good fuck."

Trying to get out of this, I move to the tables. "Because the guy is a party boy - a rich party boy - and even if he was attracted to someone like me, there is no way I am willing to be another one of his toys." There, that should settle it - NOT! Before I even finish my sentence, she has slapped the towel that was on her shoulder to the bar.

"Fuck that bullshit and get over it! I will give you the 'being a toy' part, to which I find nothing at all wrong with. But, well, I like to get laid. But don't you dare start with that 'someone like me' crap. You are fucking hot as hell, scars and all. You are talented, funny and charming when you aren't being a self-loathing ass. So don't you ever, EVER, say shit like that to me again."

When she stops and finally breathes, I find myself not knowing what to say to that. So I settle on what will make us both smile. "So tell me how you really feel, Rose."

We both laugh and start back into prep work. Over the next hour, she slices and stocks and I get all the tables wiped and chairs set. The conversation flows like always with her. Just before the guys arrive, she gives it one last shot.

"Hey, I'm not saying you have throw yourself at him right there on the stage, but at least give him a shot." I roll my eyes and head to open the back door to let the guys in.

"Okay, how about this? I will keep an open mind and try not to be an ass to him."

"Well, that's better than nothing. Just remember, no pre-judging him." I give her a non-commital nod and let the guys in.

Garrett is first in the door, knocking me in the arm. "Ready to melt panties tonight, my man?"

There is Jake's hearty laugh behind him, "Garr, dude, the panties are all ours!" Then he looks at me. "But you can melt all the boxers you want buddy."

I groan and get to work. This is gonna be a long night.

**Ed pov**

"Dude, who gives a shit what some hick thinks about you? I know you rock and that is really all that matters. I mean you're not as awesome as me, but you rock for sure."

I roll my eyes as he laughs. "I'm trying not to care but - man! Everytime I see him, I am overcome with the need to try and get him to like me. I feel like such a pussy."

"Hey, stop right there, man. I told you years ago I didn't want to know which way you play ball." Of course, he thinks it is the funniest shit to ever come out of his mouth. If he was here, I would slug him in the arm.

"Whatever man! Listen, I think I am just gonna grab a six pack and chill here tonight." It really is a pussy move, but I doubt the TV will judge.

"Now that is a pussy move. Ed, you don't have to hide in your hotel on a Saturday night just to avoid some asshole you aren't sure if you want to fight or fuck." He did have a point and I told it to myself all day. Garrett called and reminded me they were playing and I have been going back and forth over it ever since. "Go have a beer, listen to some tunes and relax. What's the worst that will happen? You get the stink eye and go back to the hotel."

"I'll think about it. Thanks, man. I am adjusting here, but it is nice to have a lifeline." I wasn't counting on being here so long and having a chance to miss anyone, but knowing this isn't gonna be a short stay has me really missing my best friend.

"Not a problem man, and the offer stands. You say the word and I am down there in a flash."

"Thanks, Emm, I know you would be."

After hanging up, I think about my options. Staying in would be safe and easy - have a few beers, watch some TV, get to bed early, wake up and find a place to live. Feel like a pussy in the morning.

OR

Going to the bar, see some guys from work, have a few drinks. Possibly run into the sexually charged bartender, back to my room and jack off. Pussy move there too.

"Ah, fuck it." Dragging my ass to the shower, I try not to think about the night at all. Just need to go with the flow and play it out. As I suds up and start scrubbing, I think about his face, the dimple I know is there, the way he might look with a full-on genuine smile. I picture the way his eyes might light up, the softness to him. Then I think about the mystery of his scars, the edge they give him and what may have happened to put that edge on him. My mind drifts to the memory of his abs that I got a glimpse of as he wiped his face. The tone, tight, tan, defined muscles had a pale brown line of hair leading to his dark jeans that left little to wonder about.

As the memory assaults me, I groan and run my soapy hand down to my now very hard erection. There is no sense in wasting a perfectly good hard-on, and with the image in my head, there is no way I would even dream of it. It has been quite awhile since I have had a partner and the memories of him that I have used lately paled in comparison to the brief glimpse of the hot bartender.

I tried to focus on the steamy night I had back a few months ago with Ben, the very pretty Latino boy I met in Seattle, but the much leaner, longer body pops into my head as my soap-slicked hand makes contact with the pulsing head. A groan echos off the tiles as I brace my free hand against the end of the shower stall. Even though I am alone, I don't want to cum the second my hand makes contact. Breathing deep, I keep my hand on my dick but keep it still. After I feel the urging pulses slow some, I slowly move down the shaft.

The images flow fast and free as I think of pulling his studded belt through the loops slowly as I blow hot air through the well-worn tight denim of his jeans. I can almost feel the seam hugging his balls and ass as I run my hand between his legs and up his ass while the other hand undoes the buttons on his fly. With no thought control left, my forehead replaces my hand for support on the tile and my hand follows the same path that I am imagining. A slow slide and a cup of my sac before my fingers slide back against my taint. The hand on my dick keeps a slow and torturous pace as I slowly inch further and further back - never probing but putting a teasing pressure on my tight ring.

Never having been picky about being on top or bottom, I can enjoy every part of the little fantasy I am creating as I think of all the different ways this could play out. About sinking to my knees and nipping his hips and across his pelvis until I reach the base of his cock. Running my tongue from base to tip while I tease my ass with a slick finger. Feeling the pulse of the thick vein running up it until I reach the tip and dip my tongue inside the slit and tasting him. Pray that he is as close as I am so I can feel him twitch and pulse as I swallow all he has to give.

Lost in my mind, I tighten my grip on my dick and stroke harder as the other hand just breeches my ass and a flash in my mind of his face as he cums passes in my mind and it is over. I scream out so loud everyone on the floor can hear it as I sink back fully on my slick finger and shoot harder then I can remember against the tile.

"Fuck!" It is hard to come up with anything better and I hope this means I won't make too big of an ass of myself tonight. I mean, really, I just needed the relief. It has been awhile and I just had a hot image to get off with. Jasper happened to be that image. OK, lame? Yes, but I can live with a lie to myself.

After resting with my forehead against the tile and an arm above it, supporting my body through the aftershocks for God knows how long, I rinse off again and dry myself. I avoid my reflection in the mirror. I can't bare to see the after glow or the WTF in my own face. I force myself through the motions of getting dressed, trying to keep my thoughts blank. I don't want to think about what I just did to the face I shouldn't even want to think about - the guy that has total disdain for me. He has no clue who I am and shows what he thinks of me, just based totally on hearsay and the fact that I have money - the very things that open door after bedroom door in the normal world.

"Fuck, Edward! Get your shit together!" Just when I think I can clear my head of him, he pops back in. I am never, have never been this hung up on someone I never really knew. I was the one they dreamed of. I was the one they jerked off to. I am the one they chase and try to get to notice. That is it. I am going. I am looking damn hot and I am ignoring him. I will find a few guys from work and just enjoy the night.

I walk in and all plans of ignoring him are screwed. The bar is more packed than I had seen it. The volume is tenfold. The wait at the bar, even though not what I have waited by any means in L.A., is more than I would have bet on here. As I make my way to the well-worn oak and am greeted by the pinup blonde behind the bar I hear his voice. I know it is his, I have only heard a few words from his full lips but I know it is his voice. His speaking voice is pretty hot, but his singing one is boner-inducing.

"He's got a hell of a set of pipes on him, doesn't he?" I hadn't even realized I had closed my eyes, but when I open them, I see the lady bartender has a smirk on her face - like she knows a secret and is happy to keep it.

"What? huh?" Yup, I'm a regular ladies' man. "Uh, yeah, he is pretty good." A lie, but I keep it cool and hope she buys it.

"Major understatement, my friend." She isn't buying it. "So what can I get you?"

"Whatever's closest and coldest on tap is fine." I have learned my lesson quickly here about the flash and trying to impress, and honestly it is a relief. All I want in this late August heat is cold and wet. As she goes off to get my order, the band rolls into another song, something pretty country. Rose fills my beer as I look at the bottles and the people at the bar as I try my best to avoid his image in the mirror. It doesn't work for long.

Funny thing about mirrors and stage light and reverse images that could make you see the flaws - see how imperfect someone is, pick apart an imperfection. Jasper is a mess of them, but all put together make a perfect man, reversed or not. From his dark hair kissed with red from the Texas sun to the soft scars that paint his cheeks and down his neck, his slim-but-fine body do everything that no one has ever done to me before.

His voice throws it all over the edge - the way his mouth quirks up as he sings an amusing line; the way his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. I am sucked in. I catch myself as a cold IPA is slapped in front of me. I hate the shit, but once Rose says it is on the house and nods to the stage, I sense the challenge and take it, seeing his smirk. I know he thinks I am a pampered prick. He is waiting for me to push it back or take a drink and give a nasty look. I take a long swig and keep my face neutral even though it tastes like vomit, and keep eye contact as he croons. After that minute, I don't look to the stage again. Instead, I look over the room. I check out everyone there, looking for the best choice of people to approach. Luckily I see Alice. She is the phone girl at the site trailer. She is a little wisp of a chick with way to much energy, but the guys I have been hanging with all seem to be on stage, so I make my way over to her table.

Her little frame is bouncing and waving me over to the table where she is sitting with a brunette just slightly bigger then her. Her eyes are pleading, so I cave and make my way over. As I reach the table, she bounces up with energy and strength of a bear as she hooks around my neck. I seriously don't think Emmett even had put that much crush factor into a hug even after he opened his first gym.

"Hey, Alice, good to see you, too." As I peel her arms off me, she seems not to notice the fact that her big brown-eyed friend looks annoyed.

The other girl at the table rolls her eyes and Alice talks a mile a minute about everything and nothing really. Just about the time I am about to interrupt her, she says something about the bar and is out of sight in an instant.

Sliding into her vacated seat, the brunette extends her hand. "Hey, I'm Bella."

"Edward, nice to meet you." She seemed normal enough, but her eyes kept darting to the bar, keeping one eye on Alice at all times. "Sorry, am I missing something here? Do you need to go with her?"

Blushing, she sits back a bit and shakes her head. "Shit, no, sorry, but I need to keep my eyes on the little pixie whore."

"What? Wait - from the way Alice tells it, you two are best friends." I will never understand women.

"Frenamies is more like." There is no real hate in her voice as she leans forward again to see where the other woman was in the bar. "Ali and I have known each other since I moved here in high school. She kind of latched on to me and since it meant I didn't have to make an effort to meet people, I went with it." She shrugs and sits back.

"And now? You?" I am baffled. Like I said, I don't understand females.

"Now she is trying to get in my man's pants. She threw him to the side back in high school before she knew Jas was gay and thought she had a shot." OK, fully confirmed - he is not in any way straight. My eyes go right to the stage as the band rolls into another song. As he belts out "Only the Good Die Young," his eyes sparkle and he owns the stage and the hearts of a few of the girls down closer to the stage.

"Yeah, he had that effect on all the girls in high school, too." Tearing my eyes from the stage, I see her looking up to it too, but her eyes aren't on Jasper. They are focused on the tan built guy on the drums.

"Not you, though?" Her eyes whip to mine and she looks a bit guilty at getting caught.

"Nah, not me. I didn't really get into the guys until later. I did have a thing for Royce for a bit, until I realized what was going on there." Her eyes dart to the bar again. This time going from Alice to Rose. "No, my sights, I guess, have always been set on Jake." She nods to the drummer, who I might have found fun for a night but not really my type. "Jake and I have been off and on for a few years. Now we're currently off."

"Wait! I thought you said . . . ?"

"Oh, I did say my man, but that is only because he is still a little bent on the fact that he never sealed the deal with her. I am giving him time to think about it. But that in no way means I will let her get anywhere near him. Nope she is not touching him. That up there is the man I am going to marry, just as soon as he becomes a man, not a man-child." I really need a translator app, I swear. "She only wants him because she knows I do and will."

I am really enjoying chatting with Bella. I try time and again to get some info on Jasper, but she seems distracted most of the time or changes the subject. In the end, I give up and just enjoy her awkward sense of humor and her stories of her life as a transplant here. It gives me a bit of perspective and cuts some of the jaded attitude I had about getting in and out of here as fast as I could. It kind of makes me see the lesson I guess my parents were trying to teach, though I will not admit it to them. I can see how this doesn't have to be all bad. Especially as I hear his voice speaking instead of singing for the first time since I came in tonight. I have no clue why, but it holds me captive. So much so, I forgot Bella was next to me, but as the band announces one last song before a break, Bella's chair slams back to the wall and she is on her feet. I look around for a fight or something, then to her.

"Oh no, she didn't! The little ho - I am gonna crush her!" She yells out and starts to pass me. "Sorry! Nice to meet you, Ed, but the little bitch just grabbed Jake his shot. I will catch up soon, but I need to kick some pixie ass."

She left me with no time to respond as she was bolting across the room and up in her "friend's" face. Maybe I don't want to understand.

Shaking my head, I finally finish the nasty and now-warm beer and decide to head out for a smoke. A good portion of the patrons head to the bar; a few head out the exits to do the same as me. I head off to the alley opening to slip a bit out of view and get a minute of quiet. Funny - not but a minute ago in my life, I loved the noise, the party scene, the hum of energy around me. But the work and then the nights of solitude in my little room have been kind of nice. They gave me time to think, time to breathe.

Funny, I never saw what I was missing in my life - a life full of excess and party . . . I am cut off mid-thought by a throat clearing and a flick of a Zippo. Drawing off my own lit smoke, I keep my eyes trained to the asphalt and gravel, fearing the hairs on the back of my neck are correct in who the sounds belong to.

"Fitting right in in there, I see." The drawl and straight-forwardness confirms it for me. I stifle the inner groan at what his accent and cockiness do to me. I ignore him and take another drag. "Figures you would be taken with those two, probably the closest you are gonna find to your big city drama around here. I'm sure you will get a kick or two out of them and their bickering and gushin'. They do love some good ol' drama."

As he says that, his head jerks a bit and he rubs his ear, looking into thin air. I have no clue what the hell his attitude is about, but I have had about enough of his digs. Slowly and with a bit of show put my butt out against the side of the building and stalk over with like a man on a mission. Tossing my spent smoke in 'his bucket,' I invade his personal space.

"Listen, I have no idea what your issue with me is, but I am kind of over the digs at me. I didn't ask for this and I am just trying to make the best of this. If I had my way, I would be at dinner with friends or a club dancing, so you can lay off and kindly fuck off." I was pretty sure I was letting my temper get away from me, but his cocky look and the sex he was oozing had me pissed off and turned on. The scent of him as I got so close - with his natural smell and cologne driving me nuts - I couldn't stop myself. "I lost my dad, my life and my world, all in a matter of weeks. Believe me, I want nothing more than to go back to my world. So I am sorry if me being here bugs you somehow, but you know what? It fucking pisses me off most hours of the day!" By the time I am done with my little rant, I am so close I wasn't sure if I was going to move forward and lock my mouth on his or punch the smirk off his face.

In the end, we lock eyes and his mouth quirks up even higher on the right side. I want to do it so fucking bad. The look in his eyes is a dare. I breathe him in and by the second, the urge to kiss him is replaced with the urge to punch him. Instead of doing either, I slam the side of my fist into the door behind his head. It stings my hand, but the slight jump he gives is worth it - well, almost worth it. His face only slightly relaxes and goes a bit curious.

I don't bother sticking around to hear his reaction. Instead, I head back inside and straight for the bar. Rose takes very little time getting to me. The second she acknowledges me, I shout out to her for a Jameson double. Her eyes soften for a split second, then I am presented in the next a rocks glass with at least four fingers of the amber heaven and a domestic tap beside it. I take a small sip as I hear the band's footsteps crossing the hard wood of the small stage. I don't bother looking in the mirror or turning around and facing the stage. I have the perfect picture in my head.

The band takes the stage with the perfectly flawed man leading them. He takes his seat behind the lead mic. His ruddy reddish brown hair falls perfectly against his chin as he puts a hand on the mic and talks to his bandmates. There is some tuning and the hush of the crowd dulls a little as they wait, hanging on the next song. The jukebox that filled the void is killed - and then his voice fills the air. My eyes meet Rose's as I take in what is there for everyone to hear.

"_So I was sitting there in the bar and this guy comes up to me and he said, "'My life stinks'" and I saw his gold credit card and I saw the way he was looking at people across the room and I looked at his face and you know, what a good looking face, and I just said, '"Dude, your perspective on life sucks"_.' "

I know the song well, I know every beat of it, after all I have hung out with the writer and performer a few times. I know where it is aimed. I know I should leave now. I torture myself though. I am not sure why I want to put myself through this, but I do. Taking a big swig, I listen to the next few lines.

_He's got looks that books take pages to tell  
He's got a face to make you fall on your knees  
He's got money in the bank to thank and I guess  
You could think he's livin' at ease_

Like lovers on the open shore - What's the matter?  
When you're sitting there with so much more - What's the matter?  
While you're wondering what the hell to be  
Are you wishing you were ugly like me?

Blame it on the girls who know what to do  
Blame it on the boys who keep hitting on you

Blame it on your mother for the things she said  
Blame it on your father but you know he's dead

Blame it on the girls  
Blame it on the boys  
Blame it on the girls  
Blame it on the boys

Life could be simple but you never fail  
To complicate it every single time

You could have children and a wife, a perfect little life  
But you blow it on a bottle of wine

Like a baby you're a stubborn child - what's the matter  
Always looking for an axe to grind - what's the matter  
While you're wondering what the hell to do  
We were wishing we were lucky like you 

In that moment of hearing the bitter words and the way they come off, I throw back the rest of the whiskey, meet Rose's actually sympathetic face and turn and leave the bar. I know I have been a prick. I know I am a pampered ass for sure. But I don't need someone I don't know, who doesn't care to know me, to obviously point it out to virtually the entire town.

As my feet hit the pavement and I make my way down the street, I start to think about just calling up Emmett and crashing with him. I can work for him. I can live the bachelor's life. I can earn a living. Especially if it means not having to be here. I can hear a bit behind me. I hear some people yelling. I can hear some arguing. Then I hear his voice say something and heavy footfalls behind me. I don't stop. I don't slow or speed up. I keep the same pace as I hear the steps faster behind me.

A hand on my shoulder is the only thing that makes me stop. In one swift move, I grab his wrist and swing around trapping his body between my own and the brick building. Holding his arm above his head, we are both breathing hard. I am not sure what to say and his eyes are saying so much. His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip, sealing my fate.

His free hand goes to my waist and mine along his jaw fisting into his hair. His full lips part instantly and our tongues meet. There is a bolt of hot white fire shooting straight to my cock as the twist and dance around each other. I get lost in the moment and release his arm and shove my other hand into his hair. I tilt his head up to get a better angle as we nip and suck on each others' mouths. Groans escape and he pulls us together even tighter. He is just as turned on as I am.

The urge to pull him along the street with me and throw him on the bed in my room is strong. But then a bit of clarity breaks in and whispers, "But you don't like him, he doesn't like you." That was all it took for me to push away, turn away and book it down the street. I didn't look back, didn't listen to hear if he called after me. I just keep going. When I am back in my room, I take a brief second to calm my breathing and fish my phone out of my pocket.

The call is picked up on the second ring and I don't wait for a greeting. "Emmett, I think I need you here."

There is a hearty laugh in my ear. "So I take it things went that well then, huh? Wait! Don't answer that. I am fresh out of brain bleach. Okay, bud. I can come down just as soon as I make some calls."

"Thanks, man. I think I am losing it a bit here and could use a friendly face." I already feel myself gaining a bit of control again.

"Not a problem, but please tell me there are some chicks for me down there? And I don't mean little airhead floozies." I know his type and normally could have spotted a handful in a room that would be perfect for him, but there was only one person I ever saw in a room when I was being social and that was the problem - the reason I needed my best friend here. Thinking quickly over the people, of the single girls I had met only one fits his bill, even if I don't really know her story.

"Well there is one you might want to get to know - Rose. I really don't know much about her, but she seems your type." His type as in beautiful, opinionated and will hate him on sight until he breaks through and gets his shot. Emmett loves a challenge.

"Only one," he lets out a phony sigh, "I guess I can make it work."

After hammering out a few details, we hang up and I throw myself on the bed. Try as I might, there is no clearing my head like I want to. I want to clear the whole night from my memory, but running my finger over my tender lips there is no way it will happen. Toeing off my shoes, I give in and just let it play out over and over again until I drift off.

_Since there was such a wait on this chapter here is the opening to chapter four. I hope you all enjoy and stick with it._

**Jas pov**

I have no clue how long I was standing there until I hear a clapping and the click of heels. "Bravo, I wish I could have given my congrats to Eddie boy."

"What the hell are you talking about Rose, and who the fuck is on the bar?"

"Relax, the boys took a breather and Garrett is covering." Now in front of me with her hand on her hip and head cocked to the side, she has a sparkle in her eyes. "And the congrats are because I never thought I would see the day someone would hit you so hard and off your guard. That boy has gone and struck you stupid. And now you are playing it in your head - every way this could twist and turn. I can bet in your head right now you don't even know which way is up. This is going to be interesting."

There is no sense in denying anything she is saying. She is right. "Rose, I'm fucked."

"Not yet sugar, but let's hope soon. 'Cause frankly, you have needed it for a long time now." As she slaps a hand on my shoulder, I feel a breeze against my ear and hear mama's giggle. Rose always could crack her up.

**E/N: **** I promise fueled up and Jas will explain... leave love?**__


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**** Yes epic fail on the update. I was met with the first weeks of school for my kids with strep taking out 3 out of 5 overlapped with the flu taking out 4 of them and then me. I wrote when I could and this has been done for a week and a half but do to size and hubby's schedule editing has taken awhile. I cut the weekend up. It got to be almost 10k and I said whoa so I cut it at the natural spot. The second half of the weekend is on its way but I am writing a quick contest piece. It wont take to long to write since it is an 8k max so the boys will be back shortly. Once again sorry for the wait I would love to say it won't happen again but as a mom you never can tell. I promise to do my best...? Thanks for all the alerts and reviews! I loves you all!**

**Jas pov**

I have no clue how long I was standing there until I hear a clapping and the click of heels. "Bravo! I wish I could have given my congrats to Eddie boy."

"What the hell are you talking about Rose, and who the fuck is on the bar?"

"Relax - the boys took a breather and Garrett is covering." Now in front of me with her hand on her hip and head cocked to the side, she has a sparkle in her eyes. "And the congrats are because I never thought I would see the day someone would hit you so hard and off your guard. That boy has gone and struck you stupid. And now you are playing it in your head - every way this could twist and turn. I can bet in your head right now you don't even know which way is up. This is going to be interesting."

There is no sense in denying anything she is saying. She is right. "Rose, I'm fucked."

"Not yet, sugar, but let's hope soon. 'Cause frankly, you have needed it for a long time now." As she slaps a hand on my shoulder, I feel a breeze against my ear and hear Mama's giggle. Rose always could crack her up.

All night I couldn't shake the need to fuck or fight. Every time I looked over to him the urge to throw him over the table was arguing with the urge to knock him out. Every song I sang, every time he didn't look to the stage was torture. When he did, I did my best to be indifferent. It really didn't work. As we were almost ready to take stage, I gave Rose the suggestion to which beer he and his big town self might like, not knowing if he would show or not. She thought it was childish and well, yeah, it was, but she did it. Once he did show and our eyes locked and he took the drink, I was hard. Thank God for the stool I was sitting on and the guitar in my lap. I have no clue how I made it through the set, but somehow I did. Watching him go out as the last song was ending, I felt the strange surge of mixed desires, and though I don't usually smoke between sets, I needed some air.

Sure I was a jackass. It is in my DNA and Mama's flick to my ear told me I really was. But I also got turned on when he bit back all I had been giving him. The heat with him so close and the bitterness in his voice had me wanting to grab onto him and fuck him up against the brick wall, right there in the alley. Of course, the bitter asshole side of me won out and I had to be a complete ass.

Garrett tried to stop me. Jake told me it was a bad idea. Did I listen? Fuck, no! The second I saw the look on his face and then him walking out the door, I could hear Mama berating me for it.

The only choice was to go after him and eat crow. I can safely say - after the kiss, I wanted to eat a lot more than crow.

Now it has been almost three weeks and I have caught little more sight of him than a flash of copper or the back of his truck moving away from me. That's the story of my life. I let my bull-head get in charge and when I think 'Wait, give it a shot,' I am to late. It has been pretty obvious he was avoiding me, and with good reason. So I have to let it go too. Rose wasn't too sure. Since she spotted us that night, she hasn't given up and has regaled me with her stories of her encounters with the subject of my daily jerk-off sessions. Even about his hot friend that has come down to visit, and the fact that he has a loft just a block away. I'm not sure if she is trying to make me jealous and jump into action or suggesting he has moved on. Rose is evasive like that, but she also enjoyed the torture. I think she has always loved to watch me squirm and tonight is no different.

"So I worked on a certain muscular, dimple-faced, hot-as-hell guy's car today." I knew who she was talking about. I hadn't met him yet, but I knew that she was talking about Ed's friend - the one that drove down from Cali and was more grist for the mill. No one really knew what he was to Edward, but theories ran wild."Dude has an amazing classic. Made me cream myself just seeing it pull in the bay."

Rolling my eyes, I continue with prep behind the bar. The holiday weekend starts tonight and I know what to double up on. "Don't you mean popping a sti . . . ?" I could hear the glass whizzing through the air and ducked before it hit the wall.

"Don't be a dick, Jasper. Here I was going to share a little happy with you." Turning, I see her do her best bitch face as she flips her hair over her right shoulder in her very 'Rose' way. I know in that second that she has something, something that might bring me out of my 'I'm gonna die alone, might as well slit my wrists now' funk I have been carrying around for almost a month.

"Fine, Rose, I give. Dish the dirt." Picking up the thick ice tea glass she threw and inspecting it for chips, I try not to show how badly I want to know what she knows. Sad I know. I didn't want to be his fling, but after my assholary, after that kiss, after he ran away, I realized how much I needed something. Some sort of human contact, some sort of intimacy in my life - short lived as it may be. Playboy or not, I needed it and he sparked that need.

"Not sure I want to now? I mean, why should I? You have been a grouch for almost a month now and that means when I help out here, I get the tips." Resting her elbow on the bar and her chin in her hand, she give me the classic look I have been dealing with since we were teens.

"I'm sorry, Rose." I give her my best puppy dog look that I know works on her. "You know how I get - won't happen again." I throw in an eyelash batting for good measure and catch the coaster as it flies at my face. Her smile tells me she is going to let me off the hook. Her laugh tells me that she loves me as much as always - no matter how crass I am.

"Okay, asshole! Well as I said, he came in and he has a '36 Dodge truck - fucking cherry red. Pristine! I have only seen one online. The thing is a work of art, from top to bottom. The hours in work on the fucker alone would put me under - not to mention the greenbacks! I saw it pull up and fuck!"

I know from experience to stop her before she gets any further into this. Rose has been into classics as far back as I can remember and into the field since we were able to see over a hood. She was right there beside Jake's dad Billy under the car changing oil years before that. The lines and curves and what makes them tick were her thing - always were. Therefore when she needed to get back on track, you needed to snap her out of it quick.

"OK, Rose! I get it - hot guy, even hotter car. Get on with it." The look on her face goes from turned on, to confused and back to turned on. It is the most comical thing I have seen in a long time.

"That's the thing, the guy up close . . ." She shakes her long locks and bites her lip. "The car was my dream. It was the hottest I had ever seen. But the man - the dimples, the way he looked at me . . .," I could see the lost look in her eyes, "that man beat the car."

This statement alone has me dumbstruck. It takes a hell of a lot to drag Rose's attention from a classic. I have seen the truck she is talking about around town and it is pretty much a panty dropper for her. So for the man to get her attention, I am floored. "Wow, Rose! So, does said man have a personality to match?"

Her goofy smile tells me yes, but then something shifts and she looks sour. Waving it all off, she grabs a rag and starts needlessly cleaning the already clean bar top. "Anyway, not that it will go anywhere, but back to my original point. Edward doesn't have a fuckbuddy down here keeping him company." I stop mid-step to take in and deny what I was thinking, but she beat me to it. "Don't even deny that it's what you and half the town were thinking."

"Fine, you're right, but it still doesn't mean anything to me. Hard to apologize - let alone hit on - a guy that is never around. In case you hadn't noticed, the guy is avoiding this place like the plague."

"Well, maybe with the end of summer bash this weekend that might change. At least I hope it does, because I wouldn't mind staring at Emmett a bit more."

"So you like this guy, huh?" I could tell she was really into him. The trouble was - she looked, but never let herself touch. "So why not go for it, have a bit of fun?"

Her snort was about the only thing not feminine about her. "Please, like that would get far. Nope sorry, hun, I have been down that sticky path before. I will just live vicariously through you."

Now it was my turn to snort. "Not healthy! You know at some point you are going to have to trust someone."

"Well, it isn't gonna be some musclehead from California that probably had a whole club filled with women waiting on him to get back." Her grabbing her keys and sunglasses tells me she is done with the convo about her sex life. Mine has always been open and free to discuss with anyone but, according to her, hers was off limits. I just can't understand women. "See you tonight, I have a truck to deliver."

"Wait! You have a what?"

"A truck, all fixed and ready for special delivery." She gave me a wink.

"Since when do you make deliveries, I thought that was Jake's job?" Then it hits me. "You are hoping to get some dish on Ed. Rose, don't you . . .!" I didn't get to finish as she winked and was out the door.

I know her. She is going to meddle. No sense in stopping her - I will just have to wait and see what happens and pray -pray really, really hard.

As the night and opening time fast approached, I almost successfully kept my mind from running wild with what Rose was up to, and what Ed was up to. But after I flipped the lights and turned the lock, every person that came in had me on alert. Every time the bell would ding, I would find a quick but casual way to see who it is. I thought I was playing it cool - well, until Garrett called me on it.

"Dude, what the hell has you on edge? You're acting like a SWAT team is gonna bust through the door every five minutes." He is probably right, too, and I am sure everyone notices.

"Nah, man, I'm cool. Just seeing the crowd pile in. I want to be ready to get the back door open and know when to put you on the back bar." It came out without a stumble or hesitation, so I am sure he buys it. "Just go easy on the beer, we don't need a repeat of '09."

His next drink is a lot smaller than his others had been. "Man, am I ever gonna live that down?"

" 'Fraid not, my friend. Once you get so tanked, you are trying to tend bar in your skivvies you are screwed for life." I laugh as he flips me the bird and is off to look for his woman.

By nine, the place is filling up and by 10, I give Garrett the signal and call in an extra set of hands. Bella is always happy to help out during the busy nights. Between her tonight and Alice tomorrow, I will have my hands full. They are great with the crowds and awesome pick-up waitresses, but the with the ever-ongoing pissing match over Jake, it can get tense. As the music rolls and the beer flows, I have totally forgotten to watch the door. I am caught up in the friends surrounding me and talk of the Saturday events. Then I hear Rose's loud laugh cutting through the crowd's noise. Thankful for her arrival so I can take a smoke break, I turn to search her out.

The last thing I ever expect greets me when I see them. There stands Rose - linked between Ed and his friend, head thrown back, with both men enthralled with her. It is so her. Most people around here are immune to her by now if they were ever affected, but I have seen many strangers taken in. She is a force - looks like a movie star, loves cars, best in her field at them, but drinks and swears like a sailor - every man's dream girl. Kind of.

My attention, though, was on only one person really as they find a high top table in the corner. His casual attitude doesn't make it quite to his features. People stop by the table and talk as Bella takes their order. All through it he smiles and laughs, but there is something to the set of his eyes, the tick in his jaw. I know the feeling and could only hope that it is for the same reason I am on edge. The last time we saw each other didn't exactly go to well. He is keeping in profile and I am not sure if I want him to turn away or to face me.

"Hey, Jas! You gonna gawk or fill this order?" I break out of my dumbstruck position to find Bella tapping her foot at me.

"Sorry, Bells, I was just um . . ." Taking the slip from her, she cocks her head at me. I try not to notice, but fail miserably.

"Don't even bother, sweets. He's been doing the same thing every time you aren't." She pops her gum like she knows I hate, but can't say anything about. She is there for me in a pinch, and since she was mama's favorite, I didn't dare say anything.

"I have no clue what you are talking about. I have just been spacing off thinking about what needs to be done about tom . . ." Her hand goes up and her head shakes.

"Save it! I have enough excuses and drama. I hear the talk. I see what I see. There is no bull-shitting me. So fill the drinks and figure out how to talk to him."

That was Bella - just like Rose, shoot from the hip and straight to the point. It really is a wonder that any man in this town has any balls left. If those two decided to, they could teach classes and every man in this town would be fucked - and not in a good way.

Handing over the order, she winks, cocks a hip and makes her way across the bar. Normally she is a pretty down-to-earth "don't ogle me" kind of chick, but when she is working for tips and Alice is on the loose, she turns it on.

"Tips are gonna be killer tonight, Bells!" I shout out to her as I watch about 20 sets of eyes follow her back to the table. I laugh hard and fill another mug as she flips me the bird.

"You want another shot too, Harry?" Shaking his head at me, I start to move down to where Fred has been sippin on his C.R. Coke.

"Hey, Jasper, hold on. Get back here a minute." Harry was always a soft-spoken man, so when he spoke, people tended to stop and pay mind.

"What's up, Harry?"

"Let me tell you this and I will leave at it," I nod and lean forward. "Your Mama always knew you were destined for great things. A great career, a great job, a great love - who knows? but something great - so listen to her now." I felt the chill run up my spine as he spoke, then turned to get back into a conversation with Doug who was sitting next to him.

As I move down the bar to fill Doug up, a scraping of a chair noise is singled out to my ears and my head turns in the direction it came from. A tap on the bar tears me away as his lanky frame turns my direction and stalks across the bar.

**Ed pov**

This whole ignoring-each-other-ignoring-the-other-one was getting old. I have no idea if roles were reversed if he would approach the bar, but there was no way he could come to me. Shooting back my beer, I stand. The scraping of the chair makes me self-aware and I am sure the whole bar is looking. But in reality, I only get the notice of Rose and Emmett, who are wearing matching "go get him Tiger" smiles.

Turning to ignore them, I see one other person noticed. The look on his face is a bit odd and hard to read, so I pray I don't make an ass of myself.

The past month started out confusing and rough. The week I waited for Emmett to arrive, I played the previous weeks back over and over in my head. I tortured myself with the replaying of "the kiss," with the mental air quote appearing everytime I flash back to it. "I wasn't really avoiding him," I told myself. I just needed to focus on work, moving along learning all the parts of the job. But really, I threw myself into work to avoid seeing him. The guys asked me to join them time and time again, but I would bow out - citing work I had to do - and it worked. I saw glimpses of him here and there around town, but not too often since I stayed out at the ranch all day and came back to town late.

It got a bit easier when Emmett finally arrived. When he first got there, we bullshitted and hung out like always and then went looking for a place to live other than the hotel. Then he got bored.

Then he got curious about Rose. The day he actually spotted her, he hounded me to find out how to meet her every waking minute of the day. He texted and called and gave me every look he thought might work, but I wasn't ready to set foot in the bar. And then after I made every excuse not to go to the bar, he took matters into his own hands.

I knew he could go to extremes and this time was no different. It was yesterday when I came into the garage to see him under the hood of his truck fiddling around and apologizing to it. The truck had been a two-year process for him. Every minute of the restoration he was there for, even if it was Raul doing all the real work. So I knew he was up to something. He would only say he was taking it into his own hands.

If I hadn't been running late, I would have gotten it out of him. Today when I got home, I found a very buddy-buddy Emmet and Rose having a beer and laughing and now I am here. Those two are a force. Once Rose mentioned it was the town's end-of-summer holiday weekend and all the shit that was going on, I was S.O.L. Like it or not, my ass was going to be in the same building with him.

I can't say I haven't thought about coming down, acting casual, acting cocky, acting like it all meant nothing and didn't bug me. In the end, I didn't think I was that great of an actor. Fear won out - because truthfully that was what it was, fear. Fear of hate. Fear of rejection. Fear of the "what if."

I could have waited for Bella to come by, but I had to face up to what had to be done. It is just stupid to keep playing groundhog every time I see his shadow. If I don't face up now, then I am just proving I am turning into someone I don't even know. This could go bad. Looking around, this could go really bad, but his eyes were locked on mine as I crossed the room, so there was no backing down now.

As I make the last few steps to the bar, my heart feels like it is going to explode. My palms are sweating and I think my eyelid has gotten a nervous twitch. I am a hot mess. But as the couple standing at the bar in front of me leaves with their drinks, I am on. No turning back - no pussying out - this is it. Licking my suddenly very dry lips, I step into place.

"Hi." Yup, I know how to woo them.

"Hey." So does he, I guess.

Grabbing my glass, he refills it and though he is turned in profile, I catch his eyes darting back to me. It's the awkward "I caught you looking! Did you catch me catching you looking?" eye play and I have to smile. I hope it is a sign that he is as nervous about this as I am. As he struts back over with my beer, neither of us look right at each other. My eyes are trained to his shirt - well, actually the spot where the shirt is forming a V. As he moves, I catch sight of a scar disappearing into the fabric across his tanned pec. I hadn't noticed it when we were in the hot tub, but that scene was too tense to take everything in. When he pushes the glass across to me, I am finally forced to look up. In his eyes, I see the same emotion reflected that I am feeling.

"Sorry." His face shifts from no expression to confusion to "I have no idea."

"Really, you just have to be that kind of ass that says it first?" His mouth quirks up into the sexiest fucking half grin. "Damn it, why do you have to go and pull that shit."

The humor in his voice has me smiling back now. Reaching my hand over the bar to him, I go a bit formal now. "Edward Cullen."

Looking at my hand then back up to my face, the smile turns to a full one. "Jasper Whitlock. Kind of seems backward though, doesn't it? Handshake after your tongue was down my throat?"

I can feel the burn run from my cheeks to my ears and the grin split my face in two. I hear his amused chuckle and then our hands meet and it goes silent.

I can't respond though as the glass is taken from my hands and he is off to fill it. He is talking with the guy sitting on the other side of the taps. His eyes are on me, and for once, I see the smile in them. That crinkle of genuine happiness relieves my nerves a bit. They are still there though -since I have no clue what to really say or where to take this. Rare for me, but I am at a loss.

As he slides my beer in front of me, I do a quick mental ass-slap for not paying attention enough to take in him in movement. Him standing in front of me has me at a loss - tongue-tied and freaked as hell. I don't want to put my foot in my mouth. I don't want to misjudge his - what seem to be sketchy - moods, but I don't want to be the idiot with his gums flapping either. So, of course, I go with the "oh so cool."

"Umm, so . . . uhh."

The noises seem to disappear and I'm fumbling over my words, which are probably heard by everyone in the joint. I count my rapid breaths until his smile breaks out and his unbelievably huge grin splits his face and I see how flawless he is as he responds.

"Yup, we are complete assholes. Don't go nowhere." He winks and I am suddenly placed on a barstool I had no idea was available. For the rest of the night, I watched as he worked. It was a thing of beauty - the way he moved, the way he smiled, the way he connected with everyone around him. He connected with these people around him - the very people and place I may have been if my father hadn't taken a risk and I would have probably grown up around. Then it hits me - hits me hard. Literally, there is a hard nudge to my shoulder and I turn to see which drunk has bumped me, but I see no one there. When I turn my head back to the bar and shake the chill that just ran down my spine, I am greeted with the work-worn looking but happy to see me still there face.

"What's doin? You look spooked." He seems amused, but still concerned.

I really don't want to freak him with the games my head is playing on me. I have to admit though that through my time here, I have had a few bumps and noises when I am working - working where my father built our lives - but I just chalk it up to a bit of overactive imagination.

"Nothing, just thought I heard someone call my name. So, is it always this crazy here at the end of summer?" I try distraction, but he looks around for a second before bringing himself back.

"Nah, it is just our end-of-summer festival weekend. It used to be to just a cookout on Main Street and shit. We aren't really a big enough town for a full on fair, but it is our thing. But then . . ."

I hang on his every word. I have no clue why, but everything about him is relaxing and enthralling. "Then?"

I am left hanging as he is called away again to wait on someone. So begins the bits and pieces we speak through the night.

"How's the work going?" I try to sum it up in the few seconds he has, but no way possible before he is called away. So I try the next time. The talking is short and in brief moments, but I am glued to my spot.

He runs another drink and steps back, "Same as always, everyone overdoing it but they know the cookout tomorrow will get them set for another night."

"Cookout?" I ask, but he is off again. I look behind me to check on where I left Em. I don't want him to think I forgot about him, but I see there is no worry there. He seems to be in a heated debate with Rose and a few others - some on each side of the table. It looks intense, but smiles and goodhearted shoulder punches tell me it is just what Em does everywhere. He loved to go out and be in the bar, the clubs, the parties, but it was just because he was so social. Wherever we were, the people flocked to him - the ones like him that weren't out simply to get drunk or laid.

He catches me checking them out and gives me the dimple and head-nod, then his eyes go just over my shoulder.

"Am I keeping you from your friend? You don't have to hang around up here. I am pretty busy. Sorry." He looks like he really is, but also hopeful that I will stay where I am.

"Nah, it's fine. Emmett can hold his own. He loves a new audience that hasn't heard all his BS before." That gets me a small laugh and a tingle goes up my spine - like an ice-cold finger was run up my bare back on a hot day.

"I know what you mean. Garrett and Jake can go on and on." He turns when his name is called out once again, then looks back to me. "I promise - it is winding down. Most have to be up for tomorrow's full day. Let me give a last round or two and cash them out. Only the hard core will be here in another half hour." I give him a casual nod.

"Take your time." As soon as his back is turned though, I look at the time and watch the room looking for any sign someone is about to leave. The night was early by my standards - midnight. Hell, I was just getting ready to hit the clubs two months ago. But for this town and these people, I know it is late, even for a Friday night.

Over the next forty minutes or so, the crowd slows and leaves. By the time it is a quarter to one, I have talked to Jasper twice, but the crowd is down to a dozen or so. I watch as he washes the backup of glassware and decide the watching, as nice as the view is, would be much better if I could keep him company as he worked. Grabbing my glass, I move down in front of the taps and sink.

I know that even though he doesn't look up, he sees me approaching. His face was set on what he was doing - not showing any emotion, just a 'get the job done' kind of attitude - as I round the corner and get closer. But as I sit down, I see a small smile.

"Thought I would keep you company while you work." He finally looks up and nods.

"Thanks." I wait for him to say anything else, but realize he is going to leave it in my court. I scramble to think of something "not stupid" to say.

"So, um, you said something about a cookout earlier? What's that all about?" Casual enough topic, I think.

"Yup, a cookout. Since as far back as I can remember, we have had our end-of-summer bash. We used to have a cookout with music and dancing over at the old band shelter, but about 10 years ago, a twister took it out. That - along with a few of your daddy's windmills. It was a small twister, but the shell was pretty old, so it didn't take much. Well, the next year we skipped the Saturday night party and just did the church potluck. But it didn't sit well with my Mama, so she spread word that me and my band would play and she would have Uncle Jack and a few of his buddies throw some burgers on the grill." Finishing the last glass, he shuts the water off and leans his elbows on the bar while drying his hands. I am enthralled with every word, every move he makes. I am also very aware that we would be very, very close if I lean forward too. But I am a coward and stay glued to my spot as still as a statue.

"So? I take it you were all a hit and the band played on?" I try my best to keep it light, even though the air around us is heavy. Then his laugh makes it light.

"Oh, hell no! We sucked. I mean we had potential for sure, but we had only been a 'band'," he actually does air quotes and I have to smile. "No, we were out of tune and everyone was on a different place than the other, but the town had come together, brought sides and desserts. The older guys through the night came up and played, asking us to join in and teaching us a thing or two." He holds up a finger to let me know he will be right back.

I shake my head and take the last swallow of my beer. It all sounds so very rom-com movie setting in the making. But after the weeks I have spent here, I am starting to wonder what is more real world - this or the life I had led most of my life. This seems surreal, but looking back and looking around, maybe I have it backwards. I could really head trip here, but don't have time before he is in front of me again and all deep thought is lost.

"You look like you were just given a calc question to solve. Nothing around here could be that hard to figure out." I shake myself and shrug it off as he pulls my glass from my hand and refills it.

"Trying to get me drunk, Mr. Barkeep?" I try my best to be cool and sly. His eyes light up as he sees me catch how not-sober I am. "Shut up, I have been far worse."

Placing the beer in front of me, he is trying to hide the laughing at me. "I didn't say a word, Ed, not one word." I bristle slightly at the shortening of my name. I have never liked "Ed." "Eddie" I can take, but "Ed" for some reason has always been a not-happening from me. He must have seen me wince a bit.

"Sorry? I didn't mean to . . ." I cut him off.

"It's cool - just please, not Ed. Ed was a horse and Eddie was my dad. Edward or EJ, please." He nods, and I am kicking myself because he looks like a kicked puppy. "Hey, no worries, Jasper. I know my name is kind of old-fashioned. Believe me, I took a bit of shit for it in school - that is where the EJ comes from. So kids would stop giving me crap."

He seemed a bit better and we changed the subject again and again. It was easy to talk to him. We had a few things in common and even more not, but it didn't get in our way one bit. As the last of his clean up was done, I have to admit I may have been swaying a bit on my stool.

"You're not driving, are you, Edward?" I shake my head no and now am very happy we walked.

"Nah, we walked. We're resposibible like that." He is smiling huge and I lean forward wanting to melt into his happy face. "You have pretty eyes."

He is full-on laughing as I try to stand up. "Edward, let me give you a ride home."

I shake my head. There is only one kind of ride I want from him right now, and even I know I am to drunk for that. "No, it's OK. I'll walk. I will be OK, promise." As I say it, I stand and lose my balance. Luckily an arm on each side of me keeps me from kissing the floor.

"With all due respect, hun, you won't make it a block. I'll give them a ride home, Jas." Rose is on one side and, from the smell of him, Emmett is on my other. One look at each of them tells me not to argue. I just shrug and give an 'Oh well' look to Jasper.

"I guess my babysitters know best."

"Yeah, they do. I will see you tomorrow?" His eyes are sparkling and I know just how drunk I am, because I am noticing sparkling eyes.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." As I am led to the door, I give out a drunken man's battle cry. "Hangover be damned! Tomorrow, we party!"

There is a loud noise pounding in my ears, the taste of cat puke in my mouth and the memory of being an idiot is left playing on loop in my head. Groaning, I stretch and roll to my side, only to be met with a short fall and a face full of floor. Emmett's howling laughter only adds to my pain.

"Rise and shine, Braveheart. Man, you were funny as hell on the way home. You should drink beer more often." Reaching up and fishing around on the coffee table, I try to find something to blindly throw in his direction, but come up empty-handed.

Giving up, I slowly sit up and assess the damages. Head pounding, mouth dry, breath like a troll washed his hundred-year-old socks in it, gut growling and rolling at the same time - yup, it was a beer night. Hoisting my ass back up on the cushions, I dare a glance at the kitchen where I hear banging and sizzling. The last thing I wanted to see was the first - Emmett's bright and early morning smile. All dimples and good times.

"I think I wanna puke. How the fuck can you be so happy? Even your teeth are hurting my eyes." Spying the bottle of water on the table that I am sure Mr. Wonderful left there, I down three-quarters of it in a second and a half.

"Dude, don't blame me! You know what a full night of beer does to you. Last I heard, you were going up to the bar to switch to scotch." I smell the bacon and I can't argue with him. I have never been able to do more than a beer or two. Liquor - not a problem. I can feel it take effect and pace myself, not a problem. Beer - beer sneaks up on me and I go from normal guy to frat boy within minutes.

I groan at the memories of how I discovered my problem with it.

"Give it to me straight, man. How bad was I?"

He responds with a laughing fit and his typical "Straight? Dude, please don't set me up like that."

Unfortunately, he ducks in time and my mostly empty water bottle bounces off the cabinet instead of his big head.

"You weren't that bad, honest. Well, not until you tried to stand up - oh! and talk! Yah, talking wasn't advised after a point. But you were drunk frat-boy cool, if that makes you feel any better." He slides the plate into place at the breakfast bar and I groan as I have to stand and cross the room.

"Doesn't help in the least." Staring down at the eggs and bacon, I don't know whether to scarf it down or run for the bathroom.

"Why didn't you just switch to your usual?" Ah, a question I have been asking myself since I came to consciousness.

"I don't know. He was busy and I didn't want to waste the time he could spare sending him off to get me something else. I mean what kind of ass can drink liquor all night, but can't handle a beer."

"So to save face, you drank a shit-ton of beer that always turns you into an idiot?" Emmett nods and stuffs a couple slices of bacon into his mouth. ""Solid choice, solid."

"Honestly, how bad was it?"

"Not too bad. You just slurred a bit, and needed help to not fall off the earth." I groan and put my hands over my face. "Oh yeah, and the yelling out that 'Hangover be damned! Tomorrow, we party!' or something like that." Yup, sounds like me. "But come on! He owns a bar, so I am sure he has seen worse."

"That is little comfort, Bro, very little." No sense in hiding out though, might as well face up to my idiocy.

The rest of breakfast is eaten in relative silence, aside from the grunts of satisfaction. Emmett has his food sex. When it came to food - meat especially - no one dare interrupt the man.

After clean up and a shower that had me feeling like a new man, I find Emmett in the kitchen banging around. The counter is covered and there is about 10 gallons of noodles in a bowl and all the fixings for pasta salad.

"What's all this? Planning on there being a run on pasta salad?" He briefly looks up and smiles.

"Hey, you look human again," his hands never stop with the chopping and slicing. "and no, this is for the cookout. I asked Rosie if I should bring anything and she said sides are always good."

"Rosie, huh? Well, don't you seem awful friendly already." I wiggle my eyebrows at him. "Thought you would bring out your world-famous pasta and impress her?"

I am smacked dead-center in the forehead with a carrot nub. "It's not like that. She's hot, but I like her as a friend. So don't be talkin' like all I want is to get in her pants." Whoa, he is serious here. I can tell my the tick in his jaw. "Rose is a great woman and, believe it or not, I am liking it here - the town, the people, the sense of community." He shrugs, but I get what he is saying. He never really enjoyed the big city life. I think that is why he spent so much time at his gym. It was his own "little town."

"Sorry, man, I think it's great. So what's the plan then?" Picking up the end of carrot and tossing it, I snag a piece of celery off the counter and grab a stool.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I told Bella and Jake I would help haul some picnic tables downtown. Then I am gonna see what else I can help out with. After that, Rose and I are gonna hang out. There are going to be games for the kids and food and shit. Then I guess they break for a bit in the evening and then there is the adult time - music, dancing, drinks." He wasn't kidding. He was jumping right in. I kind of feel like an ass for not doing the same. After all, this is my "hometown." "You can feel free to tag along if you want."

"Sure, what the hell."

**Jas pov**

I have to admit it was a shock that he got so tipsy - oh hell, drunk - off the beer. I have seen it in all-day drinkers, but he hadn't had THAT many. But he was pretty damn cute. I had been wondering how it would play out since they all walked in. So when he approached the bar, I was grateful he was making the first move. It was hard to really talk, seeing as how busy it was, but we managed some. Even though I felt like an ass once or twice, it was good. I can only hope he shows today. I will be just as busy, but not in a way to hinder talking to him.

I tried not to think of him all night, but his silly drunken grin would pop into my head every time I would drift off. My dreams drifted to the erotic and once again in the morning, my shower involved a heavy hand, lots of body wash and an image of him pressing into me as I brace myself with one hand against the tiles.

That release was amazing and settled me, but I didn't think it would really help for long. I know the smallest glimpse of him or just the right image in my mind and I am right back there. My only hope is to be as busy as I can and to keep my thoughts on everything and anything else. I made it down by nine and already the ladies of the town had been out for - I am sure - a few hours, judging by the progress. I have to shake my head because it always amazed me how much they had done before my sun even rose.

Coming out the back door and rounding the corner to the side lot that opens to Main Street, I see arches and streamers and tables here and there. Bella and Jake will spend the next few hours collecting and hauling the rest of the tables needed from the townsfolk. It is a community effort to bring it all together and usually left up to me and my gang to clean it up - Friday at the bar, Saturday at the festival, and Sunday after the brunch. Monday is always rough, but if it weren't for the community, this couldn't happen - wouldn't - so we gladly go through the pain of the hard labor through our hangovers and exhaustion. We took the job on when we were teens and it just carried over into adulthood.

Making a mental list of things that we need yet, I am stopped here and there. The guy wanted to know about spacing on the tables. Sam had me try out the new game for the teens. Garrett let me know he brought the wood for the smoker. Despite the early hour, things were moving along to the point where it looked like we had been at it for days. My last stop on my walk around was over to say good morning to Pearl and see what sweet treat I can talk her out of.

"Well, there you are. I was getting to wondering when you would drag your lazy bones out of bed." I have to smile as I kiss her cheek.

"Sorry, Pearl, but not all of us are up before the sunrise and looking twice as beautiful." Slapping my face and blushing, she tells me I still got it.

"You can just go on now with the sweet talking. Just take your pick and get on with the work." Looking over the good table, it isn't an easy choice. The church ladies have an amazing Sunday spread and usually pretty healthy, but the PTA ladies know their way around a bag of sugar.

I settle on a big gooey frosted brownie and grab a water out of the cooler. "Damn, Pearl! Nothing beats Miss Linda's brownies."

"You would pick the worst thing for you - you an' that sweet tooth of yours." It is the same thing I have been hearing since I was knee-high. "So are you all set then for today?" I nod, so I don't get the talking with your mouth full speech.

"Just gotta run to the butcher shop and pick up the m . . ." I stop mid sentence as I see Edward climbing out of Jake's truck. I can't form a word as I see his muscles flex as he and Jake unload tables. The white T-shirt is fitted and plays off his darkening skin. With the Texas sun, he really is turning into the golden boy.

"Seems to be fitting right in, doesn't he." I am still fixated on him in his casual look. From his first observed well-fitting T, down to his long kaki shorts and sandals. "I always knew his daddy was a smart man, even back in grade school. Sending him home was just the thing, and to have his friend here, he really is coming to life." Pearl patted my arm and left me to go help someone that called her name.

I stood there a few more minutes and finally I was seeing what Pearl had mentioned. He didn't look like the same stuck-up ass that first walked into my bar. He looked relaxed, helping and interacting. He looked happy, laughing and joking with Jake. He looked like he belonged. That though was one to think about.

The whole way to pick up the meat and while prepping the smoker and grills, it played again and again. I caught sight of him a time or two with different people - older folks, kids, my various friends. I didn't want to over-think how well he fit in. That would always bring out "the thought" in the back of my head. The knowledge that he is temporary, he is here to appease, to follow the wishes of a dying man. No, this weekend I am not going to over-think it. I am going to just enjoy the new place we are at. Kind of friends? Getting to be friends? Wherever it is, I am going to try and just relax and enjoy it.

With a smile on my face at my new direction, I get busy loading the wood and coals. "What song is that?" The tune I hadn't realized I was humming faltered. There is a second of my heart racing before I look up over the hood of the grill.

"Um, nothing really, just something I was playing around with." He has a fine sheen of sweat and a smudge of dirt here and there and it is the most real I have seen him. "So, you guys get it all set up now?"

He nods and rounds the grill and I am shocked that the heat of him, the smell of him overtakes the smell of the grill. "What's on the menu, chef?" He looks over the boxes on the table, keeping everything very casual, trying to feel out the mood.

"Just the usual assorted meats." He catches my eye and his brow goes up at me.

"Meats, huh?" There is a brief pause and in seconds, we are busting out laughing.

After a few deep breaths, we both settle and I play-punch his arm. "Dude, what the hell are you - a 12-year-old?"

He nudges his shoulder into mine and it feels right. "Takes one to know one."

That was it for the next two hours, it was working together and talking. Really talking. I learned about his friend Emmett and I shared a few bits of backstory on people wandering around. He seemed to really hang on a lot of the stories I had about this person or that one.

"Why so many questions about the people here?" I catch a look I can't really place and he busies himself with flipping the chicken. With a shrug, he talks to the grill in a mumble I can barely hear. "What was that? Sorry I didn't catch it. Unless you were romancing the chicken, then forgive me, I will give you your privacy."

That got a smile out of him. "I said, I just kind of feel in place but out of place. I mean - if my dad hadn't made the moves he did . . . If he hadn't made the life for us he did, this would be things I would know. This would have been my town, too. It is kind of weird, you know." I am not really sure the path he is taking, so I just turn to face him head on and wait for him to talk again. "It's like, don't you ever wonder 'what if'? What if I hadn't overslept? What if I had decided to take this road and not that? What if my dad had caved to the people that told him it was a dumb idea? Then well, you and I might have . . ."

He has me glued. His blush shows he may actually be embarrassed, but I can completely get what he is saying. Thinking about my legs and suddenly self conscious about the scars on my face, I reach for them. "I think, yeah, I think I know what you mean." His hand on my wrist startles me briefly. I hadn't even realized my fingers were covering my cheek.

"Don't, don't hide them." His fingers are still pressed to my pulse point on my wrist as our arms are dropped but connected. A flare of fire from dripping gas has us both jump a second before we hear Emmett's "Hello" echo from a few feet away.

I am not ashamed to be seen holding a man's hand in public, but I say a thank-you to Mama for the warning. I just really don't want to meet his friend in an awkward moment.

"Hey, guys, when's the meat gonna be done burnin'? I am cool with all the sides and nibblers, but a body like this is fueled on protein." Edward shakes his head and takes the tongs from my hand, nudging me lightly with a hip.

"Jasper, meet my best friend and constant thorn in my side, Emmett McCarty." Watching as he picks an almost-done steak off the back of the grill, he slaps it on a plate and passes it over to the giant of a man. "Emmett, this is Jasper Whitlock - bar owner, singer, and almost as good a grill man as me."

That has me making a rude sound or two. "What? I will have you know I am a pro. I have been manning this grill for over a decade and I have taken a title or two." All I get out of him is the brow again and an eye-roll before he turns back to Emmett.

"You be the judge, Em. That is a steak of his that he almost killed and I just rescued before it was leather." If he didn't have a slight bit of humor to his bit of snark in the remark, I might be offended.

"Sorry, Bro, but you have your work cut out for you," Emmett sets his plate on the table and cuts into it. "I am a professional carnivore and this man here," pointing his steak knife at a very assured and sexy-looking Edward, "this man is the grill king."

Suddenly I am hanging on every movement the muscled man makes. It is a grill master creed, I suppose. You have to see every reaction as your food is consumed. Even the least competitive person will puff up and be ready to defend his skills. He looks pleased as he cuts a chunk and starts chewing it. I take his sounds as a good sign until I look over at Edward and see a smug look, then back to Emmett and he is still chewing. The chewing seems to go on for a thousand years and I am going over the meanings, like this is a grand-prize tasting on Food Network. Finally he swallows and I find myself leaning forward a bit waiting.

"Hmm, not bad, not bad at all." My chest puffs up a bit.

"Wait . . . not bad?" Not exactly the glowing review I was ready for.

He shrugs and cuts another bite. "Yeah, not bad, Ed's got you on timing, but you might hedge him on the seasoning." I look over to Edward and he looks at me at the same time. "You know - together you guys could take over the world with good old BBQ."

We both turn to him, but he is already walking away with his steak in hand, no longer bothering with the fork and knife.

"Well, there you have it." It is no real win or lose, and Emmett's voice saying 'you two together' is on repeat in my head. No winner, no loser - together, we are not bad. I wonder if it could be world-domination great.

Looking at his face as he turns the food and checks the smoker, he looks happy. He looks like he belongs. As he breaks to talk to Bella about getting a veggie burger, I know we would be fucking amazing - if only I could keep him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Hey! Sorry it has been a lifetime and a half, I know I know but with a computer with a massive virus attack (literally they found over 100) then a power cord issue... then life in itself it got really nasty for a bit. But I did get it all on the right track then the problem came of how to get back in the mood of the story and I found... well... I tried but couldn't. So after rereading a time or two I found a flow. This is the new path, it is not a long chapter but I couldn't wait to post so I found the natural break in what was going to be a way long chap just so I didn't have to wait any longer. I want to thank the alerts and followers, I have received so many and they are really getting me back to my place where I am happy. I also want to thank my biggest supporters and inspirations, without you I would not have ever even had the courage to reread and see that I have some sort of talent here. So Min and Karen... you are my Aussie sisters by heart! I am blessed to have you both in my writing and real life.**

**Chapter five**

**Ed pov**

There was never anything in my life that could come close in comparison to the day I was having. It wasn't just Jasper either - it was everything. The people, the energy, the sense of belonging to something other then a nightclub's scene or a club VIP list. This was the real world. This was working hard. but enjoying the importance of down time - which, frankly, to me seemed like a ton of work to get to the down time itself. But every bit of hard work was filled with laughter and stories and memories. I found myself soaking up everything that I could, trying to put names and faces and stories to memory. I was learning quick, but the distraction of Jasper so close tripped me up a time or two.

As the sun began to dip a bit in the sky, the coals were starting to burn to nothing more than ash. Looking around, I could see the ladies cleaning up, while fathers carried passed-out kids to vehicles and pulled them in wagons, off to tuck them away in their beds. Mothers following close behind, looking tired, but something told me they would be brought back to life after a shower was taken and some dancing clothes were put on.

"Looks like the lull has hit. Time for me to get to work, I'm afraid." Jasper's voice pulled me away from my people watching. I follow as he darts in and out of tables and people toward the back of the building.

"What do you call what you have been doing all day?" He alone had put in more work in one day than I am used to seeing someone do in a week.

"This . . ." he nods back over his shoulder, "this darlin' was just a cookout with a few friends." I get a bit of a thrill at the "darlin' " part and a deep want to hear it a lot more often. Giving me a shoulder tap, I follow him around back of the building. "My work will be keeping the kegs flowing and the people dancin'."

Around back, I take in the courtyard. I hadn't been back here, but I knew the bar had a patio from what Rose was telling us last night. There were Christmas lights strung in the trees and around a wooden platform I assume will serve as a stage for a band. There were tables being pulled around from the front and arranged around a concrete slab that will obviously be used for "dancin'." Barrels of peanuts are rolling into place and small candles were being placed on every table. There were people everywhere - all moving in a controlled chaos, something akin to second nature almost. I couldn't help but pause and just watch.

"It's not exactly a nightclub or anything but . . . " Looking at Jasper, I see he has been watching me looking around. "It is the way we do it up."

I can't be sure if he was defensive or irritated or what, but I needed to jump in quick before there was a backslide in our progress. "No, it's not, Jasper. Frankly, it looks and sounds a hell of a lot more fun." He gives me a 'ya right' look. "Seriously, nightclubs are about who is wearing what and flashing what. It is all a show and no one is really there to have fun. It is more of a pissing contests - who arrived in the better car, who's got the prettiest, youngest, biggest boobed date. It really gets to be a bore."

Moving again and motioning for me to follow him, he keeps talking, "Oh, I know all about it. I did my time in those places, when producers and managers were trying to schmooze me. And you are right, this is much more fun." He opens the door and I follow him through. As he mounts the first step, he turns and asks me over his shoulder, "The question is though, Edward, if it was such a bore, why did you keep doing it?"

I know there was an answer, probably a decent one too, but my mind went completely blank as his ass was climbing the stairs right in front of my face. There was no word formation, no thoughts at all really. My legs followed the beacon to the top of the stairs. A laugh brought me somewhat back to rational thought but there was nothing said. Instead, he unlocked the door and I followed him in.

His place is like nothing I would have expected. I don't know what I expected exactly, but not this. There was still a hint of light coming through the west windows, casting a golden shine across the blonde wood floors. The walls were lined with shelves filled with hundreds of books, which, at a glance, seemed to cover every possible genre. The furniture was soft worn leather, not ratty, but just old and well built - a place where anyone can imaging sinking into and cuddling up in. The colors were all contrasting but worked well - blues and golden browns blended with rich reds and greens. Nothing like the cool but edgy scene I had pictured in my head.

"Feel free to look around, I'm just gonna pop in the shower quick." I swallowed down the lump in my throat and nodded. As he disappeared down a low-lit hallway, I had to keep myself distracted from the thoughts of what was going on down the hall. I took the time to read some titles, even pulling a few from the shelves and reading the backs. There were a few I had read and enjoyed, others that I might want to look up in the future. About the time I hear the water shut off and movement in the hallway, I had started nosing my way through the pictures. I smiled as I looked over the progression of his life. The ones of him as a small child made me smile. In the biggest, his smile overtook his face it was so big and awkward. As the years went on, I could see more and more of the awkwardness drift away and the man he is now emerge. There was one or two that I paused over, they were him with a woman with the same eyes and color hair, hair Texas big. They were behind the bar downstairs in one and that I think is my favorite. She was looking right at the camera smiling wide, but he was looking at her, his face was showing nothing but the love a son can have for his mother. I linger a moment and then move on to one of Jasper at maybe fourteen or so shoulder to shoulder with a beautiful blonde boy that was strangely familiar. Before I could put a name to the face, I hear the click of boots walking in the room.

"Sorry, I tried to hurry." His drawl had me closing my eyes and licking my lips. As I turn to respond, my just -moistened lips, my mouth, tongue everything goes dry.

"Ahh, umm," (mental bitch slap, you sound like an idiot EJ), "Um, no, it's fine. I was just looking around."

He gives a smirk as he comes further into the room and moves to the fridge. Taking a Coke out of the fridge, he cracks it and downs it in one long gulp. Catching me watching, he looks back at me with a sheepish look, "Fuel to get through the next few hours. You want one?"

I start nodding. There is no word that even comes to mind, so I just nod like an idiot. His smile stays in a self-satisfied smirk as he grabs one and strolls over to me. I swear his fingers brush mine on purpose as he hands me the ice-cold can. In my head, I am calculating how bad it would look if I just shoved the thing down my pants. Toying with the idea for a moment or two, I decide to just pop it and down two-thirds of it in a single gulp. As I wiped my mouth on the back of my hands, I realize Jasper is still watching me. The smile is gone now and his eyes are dark and steamy. I lick my lips to test a theory and his eyes narrow. His bottom lip gets a bit of a tug from his perfect straight teeth. My feet move towards him a fraction and I can hear the scuff of his boot doing the same. Preparing myself for how intense I know this is going to be, my heart is racing as I chicken out and turn to the bookcase.

"You have a lot of good reads here." I hear a long breath from Jasper, but he steps up beside me, our shoulders touching.

"I had a lot of down time and I'm a fast reader." I could feel him shrug next to me. I am itching to ask about the vague "down time" comment, but choose to move on.

"There are some great pictures of you here too. This must be your mom." He nods. "And this, is this your band when you were teens?" He nods again and moves so he is slightly behind me but still touching, but not at our shoulders anymore.

His breath is warm on my neck. "Ya, that was our second summer together." His hand rests on my waist and his chin hovers just over my shoulder. I can smell him and the sweetness of the Coke he was drinking. I was shaking and trying not to show it. I am not this guy. I am not a guy to get nervous when someone is coming on to me. I am the player. I am the one with the moves. Luckily, my eyes land next on the picture of him and the blonde. My choices are turn and face him - which sounds amazing but scary - or ask him about the picture - which is safe and doesn't make me feel like I am going to explode.

"So who's this here with you? He looks familiar but I can't place him. Have I met him?" Jasper chuckles and I can feel the vibration in my chest. I can't fathom what is so amusing, so I turn slightly to look at him.

"Oh, you've met - on more than one occasion in fact." I wanted to ask more, but there is it is again. We seem to both be reaching towards the kiss hanging in the air.

"Shit!" Jasper is suddenly pulling back and fishing in his pocket. It's then that I hear the faint ring of his cellphone. He keeps his back to me as he walks towards the kitchen sink to answer, which, though disappointing in a way, is also a blessing. It gives me time to get myself back together and calmed down.

I can hear low soft words in an annoyed tone and can only make out a word or two. A hundred-thousand breaths later, I find myself turning to the shelves again. As my sight comes into focus again, I find myself trying to place the boy in the picture again. I feel him enter the room again, even before I hear his footsteps. As I turn back to face him, I see the tense set to his jaw that was all to familiar, it is the look I got when he first looked at me. Panic sets in for a minute before I remember that we are good and it must have to do with the phone call.

"Everything alright, man?"

Rubbing his neck, he gives a slow shake of his head. Loose damp curls fall across his forehead. "Oh, it will be, but not until I have a chat with the terrible trio." I am completely lost and just cock my brow in question. "Seems Bella found Ali climbing all over Jake earlier, and now I have to step in or service tonight is likely to be lethal."

"What is it with that guy? Is his dick made of gold or something? I mean ya he's good-looking and all, but they are good-looking girls. I'm sure there are guys lining up around the block for a chance with them."

"It goes back a long ways. I don't know if it's even about Jake anymore. I think he is just the ignition that they use to start the old rivalry back up. They used to be real close until they both started liking him. The minute Jake came in the picture, they couldn't see past the lust at what they were losing."

"Lust can make people do stupid things." I keep to myself the dozen or stupid things I want to do in the name of lust. But I can't keep my eyes from dipping to his lips, and I'm rewarded with a peek of his tongue and a small crooked smile.

"Lust is a mighty powerful thing indeed and if time wasn't against us . . ." He let the sentence trail off and broke eye contact. Clearing his throat and gathering a few things for his pockets, "I better get down there and put out fires and hire extra muscle to keep the girls apart."

Nodding, I follow him out the door and down the stairs. "I think I will find Emmett and head home to clean up."

At the bottom of the stairs, he paused with one hand on the knob. His other hand snaked around my neck and before I could let out a breath, his soft lips were on mine. It was nothing heated or frantic, just tender and amazing. I draw in his scent as his lips move over mine softly and slowly. His scent is fresh and clean, like a warm wind coming off the fields and it is one I will never get out of my head. He slowly pulled back and just looked at me, really looked at me. He didn't say anything. He just gave me the sweetest smile and quietly opened the door.

I wandered out after him to search for Emmett. I was in a stupor - one innocent kiss and I felt like my insides were mush and there were fucking butterflies in my stomach. I felt like a teenager copping his first feel, or like I am buying condoms for the first time. It is a nervous good feeling. In fact, if I were a little more gay, I would say it made me feel fucking giddy.

"What the hell?" I fist my hand to my gut to try and calm the flutters.

"Ya, man! What the hell? I have been looking everywhere for you." Emmett's heavy hand slammed down on my shoulder. "Then I find you standing back here, looking eight different kinds of confused."

I shake it off and start walking towards his truck. "Nothing, man, just a whole lot of my head fucking with me." I know what's coming and throw a hand up. "Don't even go there Em, not now."

He fake pouts and looks at me over the hood. "Oh, man! You never let me have any fun."

Flipping him the bird, we are both laughing as we climb in.

**Jas pov**

What a time for those three to get into it! I suppose I should be a bit grateful though, because who knows if I would have been able to stop. All day with Edward had been great, and more than a bit of a turn-on. Seeing him glistening with sweat by the grill, the sun catching the flecks of gold in his very green eyes. The smell of him heated by the late afternoon sun. Even taking a very cold shower had no effect on my hunger. Telling myself "go slow," "back up," "too fast" - yup, none of it helped. Knowing he was in my apartment, in my personal space, sent everything into hyperdrive.

There is no telling what made me stop at the bottom of the stairs. The minute my feet hit the bottom step, it was a chill up my spine and an over-powering need to have my lips on his before the night carried on. And hot damn! It was a good idea. Sure we had kissed before, but that was more of an attack. This - this was something else, something indescribably innocent enough, but not really. It was a quiet heat and a definite promise of more to come, and unlocking of a door. Great, now I am going all songwriter on it. Whatever it was though, it was someplace I told myself I wouldn't tread again - a place where I knew I would be setting up for a whole lot of hurt. Hell, if it even came to more, there is a good chance I couldn't even get far. The thought of stripping down and laying it out there scares me. There is no way he would want what he saw anyway. The twisted lines of muscle, the unmarred side making the other even more ugly. Letting it go, I try to just leave the bad thoughts behind and hold onto the brief moments at the bottom of the stairs. Keep it light. Keep it in the now, not the future.

By the time I make it half way across the yard, I could hear them. Jake was weakly trying to break it up, but I know he gets a bit of a thrill out of the two of them fighting over him.

"Okay, ladies, can it!" I am usually known as softspoken, so when they hear me yell, they all take notice and shut the hell up. It was a bit of a buzzkill, but I need to push that back for now to keep the night going smooth.

"Jasper, I can not - repeat, NOT - work with that little demon whore." It was always the same with Bella, the name bashing followed by the foot stomping, then the dramatic hair flip finishing off with crossed-arm death glare.

"Bells, calm down please and tell me what the hell is going on." Before she can even flap her mouth open, Alice speaks up, annoying Bella further.

"It was nothing. Really, Jazz, you know how worked up Bell gets when anyone talks to Jake. I was just asking him to open a jar and she flew off the handle." I know better than to believe anything is innocent when it comes to Alice, especially when she does the pouty lip and the eye-batting thing. She knows I don't swing that way, but she still seems to have a delusion that no one can deny her based on her elfy appearance.

"What were you trying to get him to open it with - his dick? Or maybe you wanted him to strip you and use your vag . . . Wait! That shit is too loose to open a gallon jar of mayo that has already been half unscrewed." Bella was going all out, so I can only imagine what actually went down. There was no time to think though, because claws came out and though both Jake and I want to laugh, we are forced into quick action each grabbing a girl as the fur flies.

Pulling the two apart was a feat unto itself, but we managed somehow. We stand far enough away that all they are kicking an punching at is air. Jake is panting and holding a red-faced Bella and I have a squirming Ali under my arm. Jake looks lost as to what to do next, so once again, it is left to me. Man, I am getting sick of this.

"Bella, you need to check yourself." She twists her mouth around and sets up to argue, but a palm up and she shuts it. Looking down, I have the joy of wiping the smug look off the demon pixie's face. "And as for you, Alice, keep your mitts off of Jake and do your job. He isn't interested. He is trying to work things out with Bells, so back off." I can feel her tense, but at the same time, she is trying to give Jake a sexy pout. "Isn't that right, Jake?"

This should be the end of it right here, with Jake saying he is taken and that's that. It takes him a second or two - like he really isn't sure - and that was all it took for another round of drama to be set in motion. Two-point-five seconds of wavering and Jake is down on his knees holding his package and Bella is screaming.

"Forget it! I am done. You can have him, slut face! Any man that takes even a breath to think about being with me doesn't deserve me!" With that, she stomped off and Ali surprisingly is looking after her - not the man writhing on the ground. I can't imagine what is going on in her head, and frankly, I don't want to know right now.

"Ali, get the man some ice and switch stations with one of the girls. I want you inside tonight." Surprisingly, there was no protest. Smacking a now semi-sitting-up Jake on the shoulder, I feel the need to make sure it all registers. "You blew it big this time, my man." The look on his face lets me know he got the message loud and clear.

Everything was running smooth as ever during set up. Everyone was well-versed in the festivities and there was barely a hitch. The band was tuning up and there was the occasional "check, one two, check check" coming through the sound system, the thumping of chairs being set in place, the whoosh of a shop broom being pushed across the dance floor. All the sounds playing in sync and creating a calming in me once again.

Watching people flow in, I try to pay attention to who has arrived, doing my best to make small talk, but my eyes keep searching the crowd - scanning every head for the flash of red I want to see. Getting knocked to the side, I am ready to give a 'wtf' to whoever almost made me drop the tray of glasses I had in my hand.

"He's not here yet." Rose scoots around behind the bar and ties on an apron. Her jeans are painted on and her top is low-scooped. As always, the shoes she has on are impossibly high. She agreed to work a few hours, but the outfit says that is ALL she is working. Cocking her head to the side, she gives me the once over. "What you're not even gonna deny you are on the look-out for a certain pretty boy from the coast."

"What's the point, Rose? You know who I am looking for as well as I do. Really, all the denying would do is waste oxygen." She smiles at the use of one of mama's favorite sayings.

"Well, anyway, Emmett just dropped me off and was going to go change and head back with Edward." With the mention of his name, I feel a tingle up my spine and shift a bit in my boots. Apparently it doesn't go unnoticed by Rose either. "What did you two do?" Her sing-song voice matches the wiggling of her perfectly done eyebrows.

"Nothing, Rose. We just talked, and maybe I, um, kissed him a little." The last part is added quickly and under my breath.

"A little? How do you maybe kiss someone a little?" I know this path and turn it back at her just to shut her up.

"Emmett's just going to change now, huh? You guys left a couple hours ago." A bit of jaw jutting and busy work tells me something is up.

"It's nothing. I just showed him around town and then he wanted to see the shop, so I gave him a tour." Even though the face and shoulder shrug say it's no big deal, I can see the little bit of worry in her eyes and that says a shit-ton more. "Come on, Jazz, wipe that look off your face. It was just the shop - no touchy-feely. It wasn't like I was showing him around my apartment."

"Oh, no, nope, not going anywhere near that. It too was innocent and yeah, well, no." Moving down to the far end of the bar that is off to the side of the dance floor, I try to make my getaway, but the woman can move fast in those five-inch stilettos.

"What? You were all ready to grill me a minute ago. It is only fair." Popping her hip out to rest on the cooler, she stares me down as I busy myself with the glassware. "You actually thinking about finally giving someone a shot? I think you should you know. It isn't healthy for you to be alone and you're going to develop arthritis in your arm if you keep at it the way you have the past five years." She snickers at her own little funny and I roll my eyes.

"Believe me, Rosie girl. I know full well what you think. You have never been shy about it."

Waving her hand, she dismisses the past. "Ya, but that was all hypothetical before. This - this is a living breathing man. A very hot one at that, I mean - true, his attitude needs some work, but he seems to be working on that, and his style still reeks of big city player, but come on. He is hot and into you, obviously, so if nothing else have a bit of fun before he is finished here and slips back out of town as quick as he came." I know she means well, but she just hit the nail on the head really. The reasons why not.

"That's just it hun, I would rather not have a quickie with some playboy that is going to beat fee-." The words died on my tongue and my mouth hung open. Walking around the back of the building, coming into full view, there he is. A black button-down with shining silver buttons, cuffs sloppily turned back to reveal tanned strong forearms. His jeans just tight enough in all the right places to tell there is nothing beneath them and the part of him straining behind the five buttons raises the temp of the already overly warm night. The kicker - which makes Jasper a bit more than hard - are the sleek black cowboy boots he is sporting. Nothing city playboy there. That there is all real proper Texas man, ready for some two-steppin' with the hottest girl in the party.

"Um, you might want to wipe your chin. You seem to have a bit of drool." As I thoughtlessly wipe my chin with the back of my hand, I catch myself and smack Rose in the shoulder instead. "Damn, that is a fine pair though, I have to admit." Peeling my eyes away from Edward for a brief second, I see she has a similar look as I feel I have but pointed at Emmett. He isn't in the same local attire as Edward, but he is looking good in jeans and a pale blue T-shirt that is plastered to his well-defined . . . well, everything.

Taking a chance for us to both have a stress-free evening, I turn to Rose. "Okay, how about this. . . No giving each other hell, no judging or pushing. From here on, we go with the flow and just support."

Both our eyes go from each other to the hot males a mere hundred feet away and back to each other. A brief nod and our handshake seal the deal. Nothing else is said. Handshake complete, we turn and go back to our respective duties - her starting to pour drinks for people trickling in (most of the booze getting in the glass while her eyes wander) and I checking the kegs (and having to recheck because I forgot if I checked them). I hear a snickering and catch Rose's eyes and we both lose it.

I had expected Edward to make his way to the bar sooner or later, but as the time passed, he was still keeping his distance. True, the bar was pretty busy for a good amount of that time, but I couldn't even seem to catch his eyes. He was talking with some guys from the fields, then with some of the ladies from town, always smiling and laughing but never looking to my direction. Rose faired better, Emmett had been back and forth more than once, and not just for him. I got a sinking feeling every time he got a beer for himself and a glass of amber liquid for Edward. Each time, Rose would just shrug her shoulders at me.

By shift change, I was over it. My high I was riding was all but a memory and, frankly, I was pissed. The tension was rising up the back of my neck and I was sure steam was going to be coming out my ears any second now. Tapping out on the bar, I let Garrett know I was going to go have a smoke and tried not to let the 'I'm gonna go punch something' show in my walk. Rounding the corner to the private side of the building, I light up and take a deep drag off the cancer stick, hoping to release a bit of anger on the exhale. No such luck - by the time the smoke is halfway gone, I realize there is no hope for it relaxing me. Stomping it out, I grind it under the heel of my boot. I lean down to pick up the butt and a pointed black toe comes into view.

"Those things will kill you, you know." Slowly rising, I take my time to let my eyes travel up his body. Finally full height, I let my eyes linger on his jaw and the flawlessness of the skin running from his chin to temple.

"That's what they tell me," I say as I rub the side of my less-than-flawless face. His hand brings mine down from where it was rubbing and he runs his thumb slowly back and forth over my knuckles. My eyes meet his and he slowly shakes his head back and forth. I am confused, but he leans forward and lays gentle kisses to the side of my face, following the path my eyes had taken on his own face. With a final full kiss laid just under my ear, I realize I have been holding my breath.

"Don't hide." As he pulls back, I find my brain and brush his hand away, taking a step back.

"Me? Never! So hey, you are quite the social butterfly tonight, huh?" For some reason, all the jackass comments that were going through my head minutes ago were gone. I decide that the 'I'm not hurt, everything is cool' approach is better. I'll be damned if I give him any of that power over me.

"Ya, uh, sorry about that. I didn't know if I should come say 'hi' or . . . ya know." One of his hands is buried deep in his pocket and the other is rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's fine, Edward. You don't owe me any explanations or anything." I'm playing the cool guy as much as ever, even though I feel anything but.

"It's just, well, I know how the talk seems to go in this town and, well . . ." Oh, so that's it, huh?

"So what? You're worried about my virtue or something like that?" I mean it to sound snarky, but it comes across as more corny and that gets a smile from him.

Just like that, the tension - poof - gone. "Feel free to keep my company any time you like, virtue be damned." That brought a laugh and him closer.

"But maybe I'm the old-fashioned type?" His hand is tenderly back at the side of my neck, his thumb tracing my pulse point.

The blood courses through me and I pull his lips to mine, "God, I hope not." Then our mouths crash together. For the first moments, it is a clash of teeth and lips and tongues - purely animalistic - but soon we find a rhythm. As he slightly changes the angle, I feel the scruff on his chin scraping mine, the patch under his lower lip roughly scratching my lips. Our breath melds as his tongue does a dance around mine before retreating. His teeth gently tug on my lower lip and break away.

It seems like it takes a thousand years for my feet to hit the ground and my eyes to obey the command to open, but when they do, I see the lust staring back at me. I don't know what comes over me.

"Wait a minute! Nice boys don't kiss like that." I see his eyes dip and his head slowly shakes back and forth, but he plays along.

"Oh, yes, they fucking do," and he is back at my mouth. The kiss is short-lived since neither of us can keep the laughter in. Still holding onto each other, our chests ricochet off each other.

"Did you really just quote 'Bridget-fucking-Jones'?" He is gorgeous in his mocking.

"I did. You got a problem with that? Miss Zellweger happens to be one of Texas' proudest gems." He gives me a 'oh, come on' look, but I am not gonna back down. "Plus no self-respecting gay man has not watched, if not and read, 'Bridge'."

"Got me there, I have seen the movies, so my gay card holds." Just as our foreheads touch and I am thinking about taking his mouth again, there is a clearing of a throat from behind him.

"What Jake?" I don't even try to hide the irritation in my voice.

"Sorry, Jazz, but um, Garrett said and I quote, 'Put it away or clean it up and get your ass on stage.' " He looks uncomfortable as I glare him down and I let up a bit. It is doubtful he has ever walk up on two guys like this before, but still, he is such an easy target. Running my hands over the back of Edward's really, really well-defined shoulders and down his back, I make a show of slipping them into his very tight back pockets. Even from fifty feet away, I can see Jake's eyes register it and dart away.

"Tell Gar I will be there in a minute. I just need to finish up here." I laugh as all I get back from Jake is a barely noticeable nod and his dust as he beats feet.

I feel the chuckle of Edward against my shoulder as he nuzzles in, the shake of his head back and forth. "That was just cruel Jasper - very very cruel. That poor boy had no idea."

All I can do is give an appreciative sigh as my name spills through his lips. I think it is the first time I have heard it sound so nice from his lips. "He had it coming. Besides, I spoke the truth. I want to make sure you are gonna stick around."

His lips kiss up my neck and across my jaw. I have no time to worry where and what he is kissing. I just melt into him. He keeps the slow kisses going until he reaches my ear. His words are soft and full of heat.

"Where else do I have to go?"

**E/n: ok next will not even be close to this far away... but I am writing Emm and Rose as a sub story being told about 1k-4k a chapter. I have 4 chapters done but wont be published til this story hits a certain point (soonish though) so keep the alerts up and please feed back... can you try to be nice?... lol**


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